


Entitled

by Oshusta



Series: The Entitled Series [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Tony Stark, Bad parenting theme, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Father! Steve rogers, Guilty Bucky, Guilty Tony, Hurt Tony Stark, Hydra is War-profiting, Idiots in Love, Ignorant Steve, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Insecure Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Movie Night, Original Character(s), POV Change, Pop Culture Lessons, Possibly Pre-Slash, Prisoner of War, Snarky Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Steve Rogers is Tony’s foster parent, Steve critical, Steve leaving, Stubborn Steve Rogers, Stubborn Tony Stark, Theme of War, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, Winter Soldier flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-03-27 20:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13888227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshusta/pseuds/Oshusta
Summary: Steve wasn’t sure when it had started, but there was a tension growing between him and Tony.In which, Steve leaves, Bucky arrives, and Tony gets a wake-up call.(AU where Steve and Peggy parent Tony after the Starks’ die)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SO. This has been sitting idle for a while. this is the original monster and I’m banging her out. 
> 
> If searching for context, read the previous work in this series “As time goes by”. It explains. This story stems from there. Bucky ends up escaping Hydra early (with help from Black Widow who appears later on…maybe).
> 
> Things get complicated from there….

Steve wasn’t sure when it had started, but there was a tension growing between him and Tony.

Maybe it was the uneasiness that had begun to creep up Steve’s spine every time he thought of how much power in society Tony truly had.

Or maybe it was the cold front Tony had towards Bucky.

God, he didn’t know, but he wished he did.

Jesus, he’d almost raised the kid, but he clearly didn’t have a very claiming paternal instinct. As soon as they’d found Bucky, Steve was ecstatic, but the kid wasn’t.

And that fact remained. He just _wasn’t_.

Maybe it was the faltered relationship with his father. Being rejected by Howard, Tony always referred to Steve for attention and love, and was probably used to being the only one that held his focus.

And when they’d brought Bucky home…

“Hey, Steve.”

Steve’s head jerked up.

He’d lost himself in his thoughts again.

He glanced around, getting his bearings and senses back. He’d sat down with his drawing pad and a pencil. With a quick glance, he realised he hadn’t sketched a line. Instead, the pencil laid snapped on the blank page.

His eyes zoned in on Tony standing in the doorway. His hair was tousled, eyes blinking at him owlishly, both dark as oil. He was still in his pyjamas, holding a coffee cup.

Clearly, he’d only just woken up.

Checking his analogue watch, Steve saw the time was quarter past two in the afternoon. He gave Tony a pointed glance, before he broke eye contact. These days he couldn’t bear to keep looking at his face without feeling burning annoyance bubble up inside him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony huffed when he saw Steve’s face, padding into the kitchen.

Usually, Steve watched Tony with reverence in the mornings...or afternoons – whenever Tony woke up, really. He pottered lazily around, snacking on breakfast foods and brewing himself coffee. It was nice watching him do something that wasn’t rushed or fanatic.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?” Steve hummed, his eyes skittering up to Tony’s shoulders. His tone of voice made it seem that he’d repeated his name a few times already.

“Do you want some?”

Steve looked around to see what he was referring to. Tony pointed to the cereal box on the counter.

He forced an amused smile and shook his head. “I’ll pass.”

Tony shrugged indifferently, dipping his hand in the cereal box, pulling the pieces out and shoving them straight into his mouth without hesitating. Usually Steve grimaced with humour, but today he had to look away from disgust. Didn’t he raise Tony better than that?

Characteristically, Tony didn’t get the milk out of the fridge or a bowl out of the cupboard, just occasionally popped some singular pieces into his mouth casually as he sat by Steve at the kitchen counter, scrolling through his tablet.

Steve was usually drawn to how Tony, at his age, could run Stark Industries with such fervour. After Howard had…when Tony inherited the company, he took it all in his stride, filling big shoes swiftly, surprising the media, the public, the- well, everyone. There hadn’t been many times that Tony became stressed, but when he did he always managed to get over it, even if that meant over-working himself in his workshop.

Steve usually had to drag him out, or carry him to his bed when he found him slumped asleep against one of his work-benches.

Tony really was his father’s son, a chip off the old block…in most areas.

They shared their suave, dark looks and distasteful working habits, but there was quite the difference in attitudes and personas, that was for sure.

Tony seemed to have a darker air about him. Sometimes, Steve caught him staring into space a lot, and wondered with a dizzying curiosity what it was he could be thinking about. He hoped it been his grieving method after his parents…left, but something told Steve otherwise.

Howard had never had that feature to him. He was always in the present and aware of everything. Always awake. Even when he was grieving losses, which happened a lot during the war.

A notable trait they both shared was being observant, which served to be both nifty and irritating in the right and wrong circumstances. Nothing could really get past them; everything was their business.

The difference was that where Howard only gave a pointed look, Tony saw fit to bring it up, casually throwing something he’d noticed in a conversation. Tony made that trait terrifying, because it he knew how to use to his advantage. Brandish it like a weapon.

There were similarities, but Steve thought their differences were the more notable factor in their relationship. The fact remained that they were both futurists, and that was one of the only traits the public saw from them both at differing times, and that drew everyone to the conclusion that they were one in the same.

Steve saw the displeasure in Tony’s eyes.

Howard hadn’t cared. There was nothing belittling to being compared to his son, merely a child that could still be shaped and moulded into something else.

But the negative lilt never disappeared from Tony’s eyes when he looked at his father.

So, maybe it was Tony’s reaction to his parents’ death that had started everything. They were Steve’s dear friends that he’d been beside for more than thirty years, and Tony passed the grief over easily.

Maybe they hadn’t been good parents, but for god’s sake, he should’ve at least...hell he should have…

Steve whipped his head up again to give Tony a sharp, assessing once-over.

It caught Tony’s attention, and he lifted his head from the tablet to meet Steve’s gaze distractedly.

“What’d I do?” he asked, unserious. He had a playful tilt to his head, even if he wasn’t smiling. Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head, trying desperately to hide his frustration. Now wasn’t the time to release his anger.

He knew one day he would.

Steve may have been able to hide it then, but the emotion was building and he wasn’t going to be able to control himself. It didn’t really help that he was living in Tony’s mansion. He was being smothered.

Tony stood up, with coffee cup and tablet in tow, and came around the counter to land a playful punch on Steve’s shoulder, only aggravating him more.

“Take it easy, grandpa.” Tony told him, and Steve wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. Tony departed without adding else.

He’d left the empty cereal box on the counter.

-*-

Steve had taken on a noticeable edge lately, which disturbed something profoundly, deep within Tony.

Steve didn’t greet him with his usual mischief, or provoke or return any of the banter they usually shared. Without that, everything was quiet between them.

Tony didn’t know what Steve wanted from him.

Maybe it was a mistake to insist he stay with him in Malibu, when he had his _best pal_ to think of, but Tony didn’t want to let someone that screwed his head on for him out of his reach again.

The last time he had, he’d suffered dearly.

What would he do without caring, loyal, level-headed Steve to guide him through his mess of a life?

He’d been chaotic before, but after his parents died he…god.

Tony did what he always did when his head was aching and pulsing. He worked it out with twisting screws, burning the tips of his fingers, and constantly tweaking and twisting at his designs.

He should tell Steve to take care of Bucky. The guy had escaped HYDRA’s tentacles, and probably needed all the help he could get, especially from Steve, who would help him _remember_.

But it wasn’t as if Tony was cutting off all communication between them completely – they saw each other frequently. Hell, a lot of the time, Bucky was in the Malibu mansion. He didn’t seem to mind because it was an isolated location and high security, or so Steve had told Tony.

But maybe…

Steve had told him all about his life before the serum, how he and Bucky had lived in each other’s pockets because they didn’t have anyone but each other, and they couldn’t afford to be separated due to their circumstances. Bucky had taken care of little Steve when he needed to be, and they had an incredible relationship, proven to defy time, but…

No. The circumstances had changed. Bucky and Steve weren’t the only ones in the picture anymore, and they couldn’t afford to act like they once had without the cost of significantly hurting others. Including Tony.

He knew he was being selfish, that he was just scared to be left achingly alone for the rest of his no-doubt miserable years – that he’d be forgotten about.

Life was about making sacrifices, Tony knew. Someone else was in more need of Steve than he was, so he shouldn’t be so claiming of someone that he wasn’t even entitled to. Someone he couldn’t claim to belong to.

Steve wasn’t tied to Tony at all, and why he stayed was beyond him. He still had plenty of opportunity to develop his own life and family.

Tony shook his head, taking a moment to recalibrate before he dove back into the boot of his Ford. It was better not to be distracted when you were shoulders deep in the belly of a beast.

Truthfully, Tony hadn’t been putting his head, heart and soul into his projects lately, because he’d been taking the time to think about what was going on in his life whilst he was working. That would come at cost, he knew. If any of his products proved to be faulty, they could potentially threaten the safety of civilians, or the Americans he was trying to protect.

“Steve,” Tony said, and Steve lifted his head sharply.

“What?” Steve huffed, before continuing what he was working on: supposedly a contract from SHIELD.

“I-uh,” Tony stopped short. Steve hadn’t really been so off-handed with him, and always payed attention to him when he was being directly talked to by Tony.

 _Jesus, you’re not a kid!_ Tony reprimanded himself, and drilled on.

After Tony told him what he’d thought, Steve frowned up at him frown from his sitting position, leaning back to cross his arms. He was giving Tony a calculating look, trying to figure out what he was doing, no doubt, from what he recognised. There was so much flickering over Steve’s face that Tony couldn’t catch any of the emotions.

“Are you kicking me out?” Steve asked, with a displeased twist of his head. His jaw was clenched tightly, making Tony even more nervous.

“What? No.” Tony dismissed with a frown, waving his hand.

“Alright,” Steve answered, uneasily.

“I’m just saying, if you need to look after Barnes, you don’t have to stay here.” Tony explained.

Tony expected a thank you at least, maybe a comforting embrace – because if Steve was moving out, , he needed a damn hug.

That was not what he received.

Instead, Steve nodded distantly, staring right through Tony.

“Right.” Tony drawled, nervous and awkward, before fleeing the scene.

-*-

Tony had been hunkering down in his labs the past few days, unprepared to face Steve and whatever he had to say about whatever else he’d been doing wrong lately. Quite frankly, Tony was worn ragged trying to do what he thought Steve wanted.

Maybe he shouldn’t have let Steve corner him in his only safe place, but he couldn’t face him at his own will.

Eventually, Steve did come down, and Tony had a hard time deciding between fight or flight.

“Where’ve you been?” Steve asked tightly, his arms crossed over his chest intimidatingly.

“Here,” Tony answered immediately, then frowned, “Where else would I be?”

“You go to a lot of places without telling me, Tony., Steve responded, distaste clear in his tone.

Panic spiked within him.

“You mean like the toilet?” he retorted sharply, the breath caught in his chest.

Steve’s snort almost made him flinch.

“Bucky has been coming around. You should at least say hello when he comes by.” Steve told Tony, much to his surprise.

“Doesn’t he live three hours away?”

“That’s not the point.” Steve snapped.

“Well, maybe I would pop up to say hello if you actually told me when he did.” Tony replied sarcastically, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Of course, it wasn’t that Tony didn’t know that Barnes wasn’t there; he had JARVIS. It was the fact that Steve himself never informed him when the ex-HYDRA assassin, (or current – who knew?) visited. Whether that meant Steve was leaving it up to JARVIS to inform of Barnes arrival – which, come on, was lazy on his behalf – or they just didn’t want Tony’s company. He believed it was the latter, which was rather rude, since Tony had offered his hospitality, resources and services to both, and they were using them right under his nose.

 They were both short of his childhood heroes, and this was how he was rewarded for putting them on a pedestal?

The whole matter revolved around social standards; just because Tony had an AI integrated into his house, didn’t mean you ignored them.

“It’s your house, it isn’t always up to me.” Steve gritted out.

“Yes, it is!” Tony exclaimed in disbelief, “I told you he could come here, I didn’t say ‘use and abuse all privileges I give you’! Why would you even bring him all the way out here to my house, if you don’t want him to see me? Isn’t he too _unstable_ to be associating with me?”

Steve stared at him sullenly, not saying a word.

Jesus Christ, this was a mess.

“Look, if you need to spend time with him, then there’s no point staying here.” Tony told him shortly, looking away. He didn’t know what Steve wanted from him, and meeting his eyes was difficult.

But he wouldn’t get his answers doing so, anyway.

“Are you kicking me out?” Steve asked quietly, the tension in the air palpable. This time, Tony didn’t answer. He knew if he looked up now, he’d meet the disappointment he so dreaded right in the face.

He managed to glance in the general direction of Steve, but that was as far as he let himself. It would hurt too much, and he’d been seeing too much of that expression lately.

Steve had been so ready to assume that Tony was telling him to leave because _he wanted to_ , not because he was picking up something up something negative from Tony.

Without another word, Steve left the workshop.

It was quiet enough that Tony imagined he could hear the scuffling noises from Steve’s room echo throughout the mansion.

He also imagined the glass door wobble as it opened and shut.

The despair surging through him pushed him to look at the security camera feed. He saw a glimpse of Steve before he disappeared into the outside entry-way of the garage.

Tony flicked the footage away, not strong enough to watch the motorcycle tearing down the winding driveway, away from Tony. When his back reached the wall, he sunk to the ground, his knees coming to his chest as he stared into space.

He could faintly hear the tell-tale rumble of an engine.

“ _Sir, Mr. Rogers has left the premises_ ,” JARVIS informed in a steady, yet sorrowful voice a few moments later.

Tony had gathered as much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He heard footsteps, and perked up, only to realise that they weren’t Steve’s footsteps. They weren’t coming from his usual direction if he wasn’t already at the door, and the sound of them were dulled, sounding more like the slap of bare feet against the floor.
> 
> Next thing he knew, the son of Howard Stark was rounding the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did NOT mean for this to come out so late! They are supposed to be weekly(ish) updates. Alas, this week has been a nightmare. Nevermind that.
> 
> This chapter is sort of plotty. We’ve got our ship characters meeting up so yay! They are exploring…their togetherness? Also, the ‘bots!

Bucky stood still outside of the Stark manor, waiting for the artificial intelligence that ran the house to give him the OK to enter.

The doors opened with a creak of the glass a few moments later.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” The AI said in his cool, British voice, “What brings you here today, sir?” the AI asked.

“The same as usual,” he answered, trying not to think about what had happened in the last week. He stepped inside, finding himself awed at the view he was meet with through the massive glass panes.

“Is there anything you would like me to do for you?” the AI offered.

“No, thanks. Where’s Steve?”

After an unusual, moment’s pause, JARVIS responded with “One moment please.”

Bucky frowned. That didn’t make much sense. Perhaps JARVIS was merely fetching Steve for him. He must be held up with work, since he usually greeted Bucky at the entrance of the mansion. But there was no Steve, and the lights in the living area hadn’t been on until he arrived and the AI had opened the door for him.

Maybe he had gone out. It was late afternoon; the sun would be sinking into the horizon soon enough.

Or maybe was napping. He was an old man, after all…sort of.

He heard footsteps, and perked up, only to realise that they weren’t Steve’s footsteps. They weren’t coming from his usual direction if he wasn’t already at the door, and the sound of them were dulled, sounding more like the slap of bare feet against the floor.

Next thing he knew, the son of Howard Stark was rounding the corner.

Bucky tilted his head in surprise, and something akin to dread rose in his stomach. He probably shouldn’t be surprised, since it was _his_ mansion he was visiting, but he was.

Bucky never saw Stark – which was peculiar since he visited Steve at his mansion. Bucky thought it was just a preference, since Steve had told him Stark didn’t really like socialising that much, even though there were articles about his obnoxiousness.

Tony Stark also looked nothing like in the media profiles. He was wearing faded jeans and a black, long-sleeve t-shirt. Bucky was slightly amused by the lack of shoes, and how mussed up his dark hair was – as if he’d just woken up.

Truthfully, Bucky probably should’ve spoken to him before. He was the son of Howard, and even though Bucky hadn’t been close to him, he’d known him in the day. Howard had passed the role of parenting on to Steve, which Bucky kept forgetting.

Bucky felt a hot wave of shame rush over him. How selfish could he be? Stark had offered much help to him through Steve, and he hadn’t even thanked him.

He opened his mouth to say something, maybe apologise, but Stark beat him to it.

“Steve isn’t here,” he stated loudly, his body tense.

They stared at each other tensely before Tony went on, “Just thought I’d tell you myself instead of sending you away without a hello.”

Stark hadn’t said hello, but Bucky supposed that wasn’t the point.

“I can wait until he comes back,” Bucky told Stark patiently, remaining as still as possible.

Stark snorted. “You might be waiting a while then,” Stark said offhandedly, avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

No. _No_. What had happened to Steve?

“Oh, Jesus – he’s fine!” Stark assured when he noticed Bucky’s distress, raising his hands in a placating manner, “He moved out. Won’t be coming here any time soon.”

Oh.

There was a story there, though Bucky knew better than to ask. Instead, he lowered his head, staring at the ground thoughtfully. “But…he didn’t tell me not to come here,” he said, more to himself than Stark, who responded anyway.

“Well, that was a douche move.” Stark shrugged when Bucky shot him a questioning glance. “He could’ve saved you from coming here. Guess you don’t have to put up with me anymore.”

He was trying to make light of the situation. Bucky could see how uncomfortable he was, but he couldn’t quite laugh with him about it. He hadn’t had to ‘put up’ with Stark in the first place.

Bucky couldn’t imagine that Steve had just left. The house was gargantuan for two people, let alone one, and he couldn’t imagine how Stark felt. Bucky had always more or less had someone by his side – and he didn’t have much to share so everything was always cosy for him.

“Would you mind…giving me a tour of the mansion?” Bucky cringed inwardly at what he was doing, but he couldn’t go back to his apartment. He also couldn’t let Stark know that. He didn’t have much of an excuse to stay without Steve there.

Stark raised a quizzical brow.

“Steve never had the chance to,” Bucky hurried to inform, “Bet even you don’t know the ins-and-outs of this place, right?”

Stark gave him a tight smile. “I designed it.”

Oh. Well.

“My bad,” Bucky muttered.

He felt like a heel, but lucky for him, Stark took pity and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t sweat, you’re not the only one who forgets it. Since I am the best qualified for the job, guess I can give you a tour.”

“Thanks.” Bucky breathed quietly in relief.

“You get bored, tell me to shut up,” Stark told him, and Bucky was surprised to see he was serious.

Little did he know, Stark talked a _lot_. That was probably what the warning was for.

They spent the next two hours of the afternoon, which transformed into evening, walking around the house.

Bucky learned that Stark not only designed the place, but put the effort in to build it too. And Bucky thought he was just a _mechanic_. He talked about the infrastructure of the building, and some of the shenanigans he came across in designing building the house on the cliff-side. It was an amazing feat, and Bucky was impressed by Stark’s ambition, realising how much hard work he’d put into it. He didn’t _say_ it was hard, though.

Bucky commented where he could, but Stark took up most of their conversation. Not that he minded – listening was more his forte now.

“Why’d you build it here, of all places?” Bucky asked, once he realised the tour had come to an end. Or at least, a halt. Bucky would have thought Stark had kicked him out by now, but he was glad he hadn’t yet. He was afraid if he spoke too much he’d make a nuisance or an embarrassment of himself. But he’d concluded that maybe Stark was a bit desperate for company, too.

They were leaning against the railing of the balcony that bordered the kitchen, watching the fading light of the sun beyond the horizon.

It was nice…he didn’t need to talk as much with Stark, since he filled up the silence with his own rambling. It was refreshing from Steve demanding his attention, and sapping all his social energy.

Steve was probably lonely as well. Bucky knew he thought and regretted letting Peggy go constantly, but he couldn’t find the guts to ask about it. It had happened roughly a decade before he’d been recovered, after all.

Bucky came back to the present, just as Stark began to answer his question.

“I mean, I’m a business man, and a CEO, so I should be somewhere more practical, but…”

Bucky looked away, allowing Stark to think about the answer in more depth. Even after the sun had set, the horizon and the sea was very soothing. Since there weren’t any city lights nearby, the light of the stars wasn’t obscured. The water was calm enough that Bucky could see their reflection in it. It was a spectacular sight.

“The cold gets to me, I suppose,” Stark huffed, giving a shrug, “Obviously, I have a lot to be stressed about, but I never find myself feeling here.”

Bucky frowned.

“You don’t like cold?” Bucky asked hesitantly, turning his head to look at Stark from the corner of his eye.

Stark gave him a sharp smile, cutting and fake as if Bucky was his enemy. “Cold-blooded creatures tend to be drawn to warmth.”

The sudden change in Stark surprised him. What had he said to make him defensive?

“How cold-blooded can you be?” Bucky asked. It was an honest question, but he let annoyance seep into his tone anyhow.

“You’d be surprised, Barnes,” Tony responded. It wasn’t a friendly conversation, so Bucky was surprised Stark hadn’t made a remark about his time in Cryo.

He hadn’t asked anything about Bucky’s past at all, come to think of it. As Winter Soldier or otherwise.

Bucky just wondered…

The faint noise of a helicopter interrupted his thoughts.

“Better head back in,” Stark said, “Wouldn’t want the media to spot you.”

No, he wouldn’t.

-*-

Bucky followed Stark back through the house, surprised to find how fast he was walking. ‘Course, he could keep up, but that wasn’t the point.

He felt very awkward in the too-large house, but he couldn’t leave. Not now.

Stark had finally come to a stop, in a room he hadn’t given attention to, so Bucky had ignored it. There was a piano off to one side, which he wondered how much was used, and stairs leading up and down to different locations. He’d seen what was upstairs, but below, Bucky hadn’t a clue. Most likely the garage that Steve talked about.

Stark was standing beside the piano, his head hanging as he looked down at one of the many photo frames placed atop of the sleek instrument. Bucky stood and watched him, feeling out of place. 

“Have you ever had someone that you always looked to for guidance, and one day they were just…gone.” Stark lifted his head to stare into space. Bucky wasn’t even sure if the sort-of question was meant to be for his ears.

He swallowed, and supplied an answer anyway in a quiet voice. “Henry Fletcher.”

“Come again?”

Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting an answer. Bucky gave a small smile, looking away for a moment before delving into a memory.

“This hot-shot would always come ‘round when we were playing ball with a really fly car. He’d round us up and all give us a cent to buy some ice-cream, and let us watch him drag his car and pull stunts in the empty car lots,” Bucky explained, “I hid behind some trash cans one day when he came around and jumped in the trunk of the car to see where he lived and if he had any other cars. He wasn’t so impressed, let me tell you,” Bucky grinned, glancing at Stark, who gazed at him thoughtfully, arms crossed, “But he let me stay for a while and he showed me his cars and workshop. It started coming to the workshop in the afternoons more and more. Fletcher even landed me a job there, and it was steady for a while before I enlisted.”

Those years had been great. He could support his mama and sisters for a little while, since he’d dropped out of school, and he’d found genuine enjoyment working in the garage. Fletcher was like his father.

“What happened?” Stark queried, breaking the soft, silence that ensued as Bucky paused to bask in the memory.

Stark was leaning back against the piano, gripping the edge of it with his hands. There was a curious tilt to his head, which Bucky was satisfied with, and he relished in being able to share a treasured memory with someone right off the bat.

He’d sorted the memory out in one of his many journals, which he’d brought with him. They were too valuable to leave behind. Now Bucky thought of how he’d written it down.

“He…uh, he fell ill and couldn’t keep up with the work anymore, so he had to close shop.” Bucky hung his head. “He died while I was fightin’.” To that day, Bucky couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault; if he’d stayed, he could have worked and payed for Fletcher’s treatment, and then he wouldn’t have even _boarded_ the Train and-

Stark sighed audibly, something like sorrow in his eyes, even if he didn’t offer words of comfort. He did glance up him with a sincere expression of gratitude though. “Thanks.”

For what, Bucky was unsure, but he knew better than to undermine Stark by asking, instead giving a nod of acknowledgement. Bucky had a hunch that Stark very rarely showed his true self, or acted on his emotions, even around those he was comfortable with, so he was fortunate to witness candour from the billionaire.

Steve had never told him about this side of Stark. Frankly, Bucky wondered what was going on between the two of them. Steve rarely spoke about him, and so Bucky didn’t know what to believe. But from what Bucky had seen that afternoon, Stark was all over the place.

He was still a person, even if he was isolated and filthy rich. His wealth separated him from society, and that’s what made him starved for contact most likely. He had to be, if he was spending time with _Bucky_ , of all people. He looked far younger in person, too; more vulnerable.

The guy in question was still leaning against the sleek piano, his sorrowful expression turning into a contemplative one. “Since it’s too late for you to leave, you wanna order a pizza?”

Bucky eye’s widened, startled at the offer. He hadn’t expected anything of the sort. He had been expecting to be kicked out. Instead, Stark had spent hours giving him the run-down of his mansion and now was offering him hospitality and food. He was letting Bucky _stay_.

Stark was confusing. He gave off many signals, all of them contradicting one another. But having someone new he could get to know was an exciting prospect, too.

He didn’t have any other options, anyway.

“Sure,” Bucky relented.

“Forgot about the fast metabolism thingy.” Stark waved a hand in his direction. “Guess I’ll have to order a few extra. Get the usual, JARVIS.”

Bucky forced himself not to stiffen. He always forgot about the security system which always watched over them.

Stark turned back to him. “Guess I should show you where it all happens,” he said.

“Where what all happens?” Bucky asked, bemused.

“Stark Industries.” Stark looked at him funny, as if he should’ve know the answer.

Bucky still didn’t know what that meant.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Stark stood up, and then to Bucky’s wonder, started walking down the stairs he’d been thinking about earlier. Curiosity got the better of him, so he followed Stark down.

What he saw was…other-worldly. That probably wasn’t saying much, since he thought that about a lot of things nowadays. But he had the right to be. “Is this where you work?” Bucky gasped.

“Yep,” Stark answered, popping the ‘p’. His hands were behind his back and he was rocking on his heels. “This is where all the magic happens.

Bucky tore his eyes away from Stark to stare at the workshop. It had a great view, Bucky was amused to note, and a kitchenette with a couch and TV to the right. The rest was sci-fi heaven. And the cars too! And was that…a robot?

The thing in question was over at one of the benches, what looked a metal claw picking at something on top of it.

Bucky stared, feeling as if his eyes were bulging out of his head. “What the…”

“Dummy, what’d I say about touching that? I’ll tear you apart and send you to three different colleges for inspection.”

“What the hell is that?” Bucky asked, eyes wide.

“That…is the world’s dumbest artificial intelligence.” Stark walked over to the robot, holding his arm out like a sale’s man. “The very first.”

“Dumbest?” Bucky walked up to the robot hesitantly. “You built him?”

“Yeah.” Stark flicked the metal claw. “I needed an assistant ‘cause Peggy wouldn’t let me hire one, so I took the matter into my own hands. Thought she’d hate him – he’s useless anyway. Turns out, she loves him.”

Bucky gazed at Stark all the while he was talking. If Peggy had say whether Stark had an assistant at the time, he must’ve been young when he’d built the robot.

“Can’t see why she’d hate a robot you built,” Bucky replied, gazing at the words stamped onto the metal. _Dum-E_.

It was the most counter-intuitive thing Bucky had ever witnessed.

“It’s more of a bionic arm.” Stark shrugged. He nodded over to another robot, a copy of Dum-E, although recognisably different, that he’d missed over in the kitchenette. “Thought I could do better the second time with the same design, which is bad science, but I was an idiot. The dunce over there is you.”

“Me?” Bucky blinked down at Stark, unsure whether to be offended or not.

Stark grinned up at him. “No, his _name_ is _U_. I thought it was real smart back at the time, but now it just makes things difficult.”

Bucky gave another smile, slightly brighter than the previous ones. Just as he was looking back to the kitchenette, the blender, which had just turned on, exploded.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. He suspected that wasn’t meant to happen with those kinds of gadgets. He turned to shoot Stark a quizzical glance.

“That’s the third this month!” Stark cried out, “Have you even managed to pour anything into a cup yet?”

“What…?”

“He’s obsessed with the idea of my health,” Stark explained, rolling his eyes, “Have yet to actually try one of his fruit juices though.”

“This happen a lot?” Bucky asked, looking at the rest of the lab again, wanting to explore it more.

“You’d be surprised.”

Stark said that a lot. Bucky was beginning to believe that he would be.

-*-

Twenty minutes later, they were seated on the couch in front of the television, stuffing pizza into their mouths. They’d turned the TV on for background noise, so it wouldn’t be filled with awkward silence whilst they were eating.

Stark kept sending him glances and Bucky let him, since he was always watching the people that surrounded him anyway. It was kind of nice to be looked at.

Eventually, JARVIS broke the companionable silence.

 “Sir, I suggest you watch the New.” His voice was urgent, making Stark perk up. On cue, the channel switched to the News, and Bucky stilled.

 _“-a recent ransacking has occurred in a Queens apartment block, resulting in a hostage situation. The believed target of the attack was the recently pardoned ex-assassin James Buchanan Barnes, as investigators identified one of the apartments to his ownership…_ ”

Dammit. He had been hoping to keep that quiet for a little while longer.

‘Course, he couldn’t have stayed with Stark for however long it would take to find another safe location without Stark knowing what had happened, but he could hope.

Stark gaze was steady on him now. Bucky cringed inwardly.

“Forget to tell me?” Stark didn’t sound impressed, but there wasn’t anger in his tone, at least.

Bucky swallowed. “Was hoping I didn’t have to.”

All the valuables, such as his memory books, data, and history were either with him currently, or hidden somewhere far safer, including the Malibu mansion. He hadn’t spent so much time in New York that he’d become attached, but his neighbours were friendly enough, and they’d be could be seriously or hurt. His veil of peace had been invaded once more.

 _Of course_ , he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Barnes?” Stark’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he slowly turned to face him.

He appeared concerned, which Bucky thought was misplaced, but appreciated it nonetheless.

“Yeah?” he finally responded, voice croaking.

Stark frowned. “You good?”

He gave a weary nod. “I hope those people will be safe.”

“It’ll be handled,” Tony assured him.

“Looks like I have to go house hunting again,” Bucky said, a pathetic attempt of a joke.

JARVIS shut _that_ idea down.

“Mr. Barnes, I advise against doing anything as such. According to my gathered research, the people who have targeted you have established a pattern of your movements across the state. The safest course of action would be to lay low as to not stir more notice from the public.”

Bucky _wasn’t_ a criminal, he’d been cleared months ago – he was just a guy with a metal arm and tragic back story, and a long list of murders he had to convince himself weren’t his fault, trying to find a place in the world. But he always seemed to be on the run.

“JARVIS, maybe give some warning next time,” Tony admonished exasperatedly, but he didn’t seem that bothered. His eyes returned to rest heavily on Bucky.

The intensity of his dark eyes was difficult to meet.

 “I should probably leave – don’t want to taint your image with the assassin on the run here,” Bucky said tiredly.

“Actually…leaving is probably a worse idea.”

“How is that?” Bucky demanded, disgruntled. There was nothing more belittling than being told that.

“Most likely, they’ve established your patterns. If you leave, you’re vulnerable. Here? You’re untouchable.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “You’re suggesting I hole up here?”

Stark stilled under his scrutinising gaze, his eyes skittering away.

Bucky’s expression softened. “You could be targeted, and I wouldn’t want you getting hurt trying to protect me.”

“Don’t underestimate my security,” Stark retorted.

Bucky sat quietly for a second in thought. “Steve will come, you realise?”

Stark’s eyes lifted to meet his quickly, probably without meaning to. There was a vulnerability in them that he knew he wasn’t meant to see.

“You’ve been here with Steve before, I’m sure I can handle it,” Stark responded drily, his gaze hardening up like stone.

Bucky tilted his head, and Stark’s words made something occur to him. Bucky had been visiting the mansion without such a whiff of the billionaire, and Steve hadn’t ever hinted that Stark would be joining. He hardly spoke of Stark, which was saying something seeing as how big of a part he played in his life.

Bucky didn’t understand how he could allow that to happen. Stark should’ve felt…violated or under-valued.

He didn’t know what had gone down between Steve and Stark, but he didn’t want to make the billionaire uncomfortable in his own home.

But he didn’t have any other options.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to get a bit complicated from here! :D 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because Bucky had bigger problems, didn’t mean other people didn’t still have them. And between the two of them, Steve and Stark had a butt-load. 
> 
> “I’m not worth all this,” Bucky told Steve lowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t mean for this one to come out so late either, but you’re all probably used to hearing that by now…
> 
> This chapter is still a bit rough around the edges, and I’ll probably go back and edit is as the story continues to be updated! Its a bit tense at first, but then Tones and Bucky share some quality time together - we’ll see more of that in the next chapter, hopefully!
> 
> Just to clear a few things up: Tony is 28 in this story, and Bucky’s physical age is roughly the same as that here too (he’s been pardoned and has been out of cryo for almost a year). Our Steve is like fifty though, but being a super-soldier course he don’t look fifty! 
> 
> Any other questions will be answered in the comment section!

“Bucky!” Steve greeted with a sigh, his smile tinged with relief. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Bucky didn’t know how he couldn’t be – the Malibu house was completely safe. Stark was right about it being high-security. Bucky had JARVIS walk him through the entire system thoroughly, until he felt content enough to sleep the first night, and he’d a good rest – not that he needed much sleep nowadays.

It had been a week since Bucky had first arrived, and from then Bucky had been learning about the world, hanging out in the huge kitchen and working himself hard in the gym. That, as well as enjoying the weather from the balcony, and patrolling the house frequently enough that it was imprinted into memory.

For the most part, Stark kept to himself. He spent his time in the lab, and Bucky hadn’t seen much of him at all. Bucky knew he didn’t come out often; it may be a big house but Bucky made sure he knew what was going on inside it.  

The place had a way to make you feel isolated. That may have been what Bucky wanted for peace of mind, but he couldn’t help thinking that it was the opposite of what Stark needed – not that it was Bucky’s responsibility.

Stark seemed lonely, which Bucky thought was only made worse by the sheer enormity of the mansion, and how empty it was. He couldn’t imagine how lonely he must be, especially without Steve there. He knew Stark didn’t enjoy it – unlike Bucky who preferred to be left alone mostly.

The only people that had authority to come into the mansion that visited Stark were staff. Like his personal assistant, Pepper Potts.

He’d met her, well…he’d startled her when she came in, because she’d walked right in and he’d padded up behind her until he realised she hadn’t meant any harm and was merely doing her job. Bucky had a hunch that she was the one Stark socialised with most, and she was being paid to do so.  

Stark hadn’t left the mansion at all, let alone come out from his lab. When did he do all the partying that the media accused him of?  He’d been pondering it for a while, now.

During the time they _had_ spent together, Stark had given Bucky a laptop and told him to use it at his own caution. Bucky had been wary with that advice, but with JARVIS’ helpful word, Bucky had been discovering more and more about the world and how it’d been shaped from the day he...fell. He’d been spending a lot of his time in the kitchen, doing as such, and the hours seemed to mostly slip away.

When he hadn’t been spending time in the kitchen, he focused his energy on using the gym. You name the equipment – Stark had it in there.

Bucky mostly enjoyed using the weights and pounding the boxing bag until he told JARVIS that Stark needed to invest money into a new one, or ten.

It felt like he had everything at the palm at his hand, and the days seemed to slip away with as such. Bucky could understand why Stark didn’t come out that much – he must really lose track of time.

“How is it?” Steve asked Bucky, his smile looking more like a grimace.

“Fine,” Bucky answered lightly, shaking away his thoughts. He didn’t like the idea of bringing up the fact that he hadn’t talked to Tony much since he’d been there.

“How’s the rich life treating you?”

“It’s…quiet,” Bucky answered, hesitantly. What was Steve fishing for?

There was a beat of silence.

“How’s Tony?” His voice was gentle as he asked, his features taking on a more serious look. This was the question he’d been meaning to ask. Bucky understood that as the parent in him.

Bucky gave him a pointed look. “Sure you don’t want to ask Tony that?”

Steve frowned. “Bucky…”

Bucky huffed. “Y’know Steve, I’m surprised you didn’t introduce us.”

“Tony, he’s-” Steve began, searching for the words, “He’s a bit harsh. I didn’t want you to meet him until you’d settled in.”

Bucky knew that Steve meant well by that, but it wasn’t very practical. If Steve had been waiting for Bucky to be settled, he would have been waiting a long time.

“You’re not the man to qualify me as ‘settled’” Bucky said, instead. Steve needed to hear it, whether Bucky was considerate of his feelings or not.

“I was waiting for Tony, too,” Steve admitted.

Waiting for him to what? Grow up?

Bucky exhaled slowly, holding in his frustration. “Whatever’s goin’ on, you should be putting him first.”

Steve looked constipated. “Bucky-” he began, in the tone implying that Bucky was being the unreasonable one.

So, he’d hit a sore spot. Steve had been avoiding those around Bucky like he needed to walk on egg-shells. Bucky wasn’t naïve, though. Just because Bucky had bigger problems, didn’t mean other people didn’t still have them. And between the two of them, Steve and Stark had a butt-load.

“I’m not worth all this,” Bucky told him lowly.

His words were met with silence.

And then –

“You’ve been spending too much time with Tony already, if you think that,” Steve responded firmly.

“I’m fine here,” Bucky insisted, too surprised by Steve’s response to say anything else, “It’s you an’ him I’m worried about.”

Steve’s body slumped as he let out another gusty sigh. “Well, as long as you’re comfortable. Just needed to make sure before I head off.”

Bucky wasn’t surprised he hadn’t acknowledged Tony. That man had his priorities out of whack. But Bucky could only pursue the subject so much, and he felt like this wasn’t the right time, anyway.

“Mission?” Bucky sympathised, trying to ignore the twinge of unease in his belly.

Steve nodded. The silence stretched on a little longer.

Steve looked away, face dark with discomfort. “I better go.”

“Good luck, Steve,” Bucky said seriously, memorising the details of his friend’s face. He might not see him for a while.

“Thanks, Buck. Tell Tony…tell him I say hello.”

He hung up before Bucky had a chance to say that he should do it himself.

-*-

“Sir.” JARVIS’ voice jolted Tony out of his preoccupation, “The new boxing bags that Mr. Barnes requested to be delivered to the gym have arrived. May I suggest that you haul them yourself?”

Tony grinned knowingly. JARVIS was a little shit. “And why would you want me to do that?”

“Do you recall the last incident involving unadvised delivery men, Sir?”

“Not at all,” Tony answered promptly, sitting up from where he’d been sprawled across the work-bench and arching his back into a bone-cracking stretch.

“As predicted. However, I do advise such a repeat of incidents.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “But of course. In the gym, is he?”

“Yes, Sir. However, due to the current state of the boxing bag, Mr. Barnes has taken to using the weights.”

“A wonder,” Tony said distractedly.

JARVIS was becoming coy. Tony had been just as gleeful as JARVIS when he told him that Barnes had destroyed the boxing bag in the gym, and then the replacement boxing bags. Apparently, Barnes had asked JARVIS not to tell Tony about it and replace it so he wouldn’t know.

But JARVIS was designed with Tony’s best interests as priority, and Tony suspected that JARVIS was quietly urging him to interact with _natural_ intelligence, rather than artificial.

Either way, Tony was willing to use JARVIS’ excuse to interact with Barnes’, who was an enigma to him anyway. He was better with electronics than with people, no doubt, and rarely did people interest him. His interest in Barnes was rare. Tony had dismissed Barnes’ entirely before he’d even met him. Being in his presence had jolted him out of that, though.

The package containing the boxing bag was situated inside the entrance of the mansion, so Tony shuffled it onto his box trolley and set off for the gym.

Barnes was pumping the weights like JARVIS had told him. He’d also taken off his t-shirt, and Tony had a hard time not noticing his metal arm, since it was on full display to him, along with the rest of his upper-body. He knew that super-soldiers were…well.

Tony swallowed.

Barnes had heard him – the trolley squeaked like a rusted door-hinge – and was in the process of finding his t-shirt and pulling it back over his head. Tony almost told him not to worry about it, but he could see why Barnes’ would be self-conscious. The part where the skin met the metal of his arm wasn’t exactly pretty.

Funnily enough, Barnes looked surprised to see him. He hadn’t been holed up for _long_ , had he?

“Special delivery!” Tony chirped, wheeling the trolley over to the corner where the boxing bag was supposed to be hanging up. With a quick glance, he located the old one – laying neglected and said beside the sparring ring, in attempt to conceal it from view.

Barnes, not even bothering to deny it, ran his flesh hand through his hair sheepishly (he’d left it out, and it was hanging in his face). “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”

Tony gave him a delighted grin. “Don’t be. This one is higher quality so you shouldn’t have too much trouble with it. You need help setting it up, or…?”

Tony trailed off. Barnes had made his way over to the box, and then promptly tore the cardboard apart like it was paper. After inspecting the darn thing, he lifted it up with his flesh arm, and hooked it up.

Just like that.

“…not. Definitely not.”

Christ, Steve never did _anything_ like that. Or maybe Tony just didn’t notice when Steve did it because it was _Steve_. Gross.

Barnes turned his attention back on Tony, his eyes widened comically, as if it was completely normal. Sure, for him maybe.  

“Was that you trying to intimidate me, Barnes?” Tony demanded, waving his arms about, “Is this intimidation?”

Barnes raised his eyebrows. “Is it working?”

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. “Nope.”

Barnes shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to try something else, then.”

Tony made a face. “Don’t need to try hard, super-soldier,” Tony grumbled.

“Super-soldier?” Barnes huffed. “Is that what they call us?”

“Unoriginal, right?” Tony rocked on his heels. “But it’s…fitting.”

Surprisingly, Tony didn’t mind talking to Barnes. He wasn’t boring, and he wasn’t…charmed by Tony’s fame or wealth, which usual made people think he was sentient or something. Barnes looked at him in a way that made Tony feel as if he had to work in a different way to gain the man’s respect.

Huh. Maybe JARVIS had a point.

Barnes certainly wasn’t a bumbling idiot trying to see shit-all to impress Tony. It was almost the reverse – Tony hadn’t got a proper smile out of Barnes at all. It was oddly exhilarating.

“So, after you knock that one around,” Tony nodded to the newly hung-up boxing bag, “Want to come out and have some food? If you do that – eating, I mean.”

Barnes raised an eyebrow. “Do _you_?”

“Touché,” Tony hummed.

A soft silence filled the space between them. Tony was about to take that as a hint and get lost, when Bucky spoke up.

“On one condition.”

“Name it,” Tony responded promptly.

“We’re not ordering take-away.”

Internally, Tony groaned.

He hated cooking – you had to wait through smelling the food without it being ready to eat. It was a form of torture, especially since all the recipes he liked were always so delicious.

Of course, he had liked it when Steve had cooked for him. Sometimes, he’d drag Tony out of the lab and say they were having lunch while he was still in the process of cooking.

Not that Tony really minded. He’d complain plenty, sure, but he saw that Steve liked being able to feed him, liked being the one to nourish him. Made him feel like he was doing more for Tony, or something. He had enjoyed Tony’s company, back then.

“Alright,” Tony conceded, “But guess who’s cooking?”

-*-

“So,” Tony began awkwardly, after Barnes’ had showered and told Tony to sit on one of the stools next to the island, “JARVIS has been telling me about your Pop culture one-oh-one classes. Any success?”

Truth was, JARVIS had more than just enlightened Tony about the classes. Apparently, Barnes was eager about learning the history and culture of their current day, which hadn’t been what Tony had expected. He’d expected…he’d expected more of a Steve thing. Peggy had told him that when Steve resurfaced he was open to the information given to him but never willingly searched for it himself, too caught up in the past. He only sought what he needed to know – which wasn’t much, apparently.

Barnes, or so JARVIS told him, hunted for information hungrily via the laptop Tony had given him, taking it all in and then going back for more, much like Tony was with tech. There was always _more_. More to do, more to see and touch, more to have…Tony saw a creature of his own nature, there. Barnes wanted to forget the past, where Steve was all caught up in it. Tony thought he understood that.

So, his question was mostly rhetorical. He knew Barnes’ curiosity for more was being sated, but Tony wanted to hear that from him.

Barnes paused in his food preparations, and turned to Tony with an embarrassed expression. “Mostly…’cept…”

“Except what?” Tony asked gleefully, propping his chin on his hand.

Barnes’ face scrunched up. “The internet is…confusing?”

“Well, I’ll give you that one. I myself mostly keep off it – I have JARVIS anyway, but he can access the internet too if required.”

“Required is a strong word, Sir,” JARVIS interjected.

“I’ll say,” Barnes agreed, giving Tony a small smile which made something in his chest tighten, “Hard to imagine that JARVIS’ might need the internet.”

“Quite.” If JARVIS held a human form, Tony believed he would be posturing. God, what a sassy bunch of code.

Tony held his hands up in defeat. “Courtesy of yours truly, JARVIS despises the internet.”

“No matter what happens, Sir always seems to end up there in various creative ways,” JARVIS retorted, sounding sullen.

“Stop complaining.” Tony rolled his eyes, then looked over to Barnes again to see his reaction to his and JARVIS’ banter. He looked surprised, Tony was pleased to see.

“Incredible,” Tony thought he heard Barnes mutter.

“What are you cooking us, Sergeant?” Tony asked cheekily, after a few moments of comfortable lull in conversation.

Barnes’ shoulders hunched up, Tony assumed because of what he called him, but he didn’t verbally protest. “Spaghetti?”

Tony raised his eyebrow at Barnes’ back. “You asking me or telling me?”

Barnes’ just huffed exasperatedly. Well, that hadn’t taken long at all. Mark it down in the book, Barnes’ very first “ _Tony_ … _sigh_ ” (that was on Rhodey). There will be many more to come, just you wait, Tony thought bitterly.  Tony swore his name was associated with sighs. He heard plenty of them anywhere when he showed his big head.

Oh, huff of disapproval.

Except, Barnes’ huff turned into more of a dry chuckle. It sounded like his throat was rubbed with sand-paper. “Telling you…I think,” he said, shooting a brief unreadable glance from the corner of his eye to Tony. His eyes were squinted as if he was smiling, but his lips weren’t.

“You seem to know where everything is,” Tony observed mildly. Barnes’ halted mid-step and turned to Tony with a startled expression, akin to a deer in headlights. Then a mischievous smile morphed over Barnes’ face. It looked like trouble, and Tony couldn’t help but return it with his own smile.

“That’s ‘cause I actually spend time in here and cook meals. Thought being rich meant you didn’t live off scraps.”

Tony spluttered.

Steve had told him plenty of stories about the Howling Commandos, and if he was feeling particularly open, he told Tony plenty about _Bucky_ before the war. About how he had been a little shit apparently, and a major flirt.

Tony thought…well. Tony hadn’t thought he was still that same Bucky. He couldn’t be, and Tony knew Steve didn’t understand that.

“You are…” Tony broke off, frowning, “…totally right. Hands down, you got me in a nut-shell.”

Barnes let out another one of those laughing-huffs, and Tony caught the expression on his face. It almost seemed fond, but his expressions were sort of muted. Tony bet that was showing a lot of emotion for him though, and it was more than Steve had shown him recently, and he was supposed to be the level-headed one. A fresh spike of pain shot through him.

Tony turned away to look at the horizon beyond the balcony so Barnes couldn’t see his face. He didn’t know how much he would be giving away if he did.

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. “You think I could suggest some stuff in your pop culture readings?”

“Ah-” Barnes began, “There’s _more_ to read?”

Tony snorted. “Well, my input involves that of the film variety, actually.”

“Really?” Barnes asked.

“Yeah. That’s the most important part.” But of course, Tony had to start with the basics. “You ever heard of Star Wars?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, maybe forgot to warn this, but this pic isn’t the most Steve friendly in the world…
> 
> But he’ll come around eventually! Oh, do I have plans…
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony didn’t want to intrude on Barnes. He couldn’t imagine how painful it would have been to have the arm installed, and to maintain it. Tony didn’t know how it worked, and his curiosity was killing him, but he knew he couldn’t ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright so this chapter is a big one, as a way of apologising for the wait. Where its been soft, and light hearted, we have a darker chapter, dealing with Bucky’s arm and autonomy issues, a way of getting rid of it and then Rhodey coming in (finally.)  
> I spent all afternoon on this over working on one of my assignments. ProCrasTinAtiNG foR ThE wiN
> 
> Also, I’ve seen Infinity War. Watch it at your own bleeding risk, and expect the unexpected, because I cried in the cinema 

It became like a routine. Most evenings, Bucky managed to tempt Stark out for food, and then Stark would arrange an “iconic” film for him to watch.

By now, they’d watched four movies, and almost another week had passed. Bucky didn’t want to ruin it by saying anything, but in corners of his mind, he admitted to himself that he cherished their interactions, even though Stark scared the hell out of him.

Many times, Tony would claim that he never usually came out of the lab so much unless Steve was around, and every time Bucky would struggle with what to say. Stark wasn’t searching for pity, so Bucky had trouble knowing what he wanted.

From when Steve and Peggy had taken him in, something must have gone terribly wrong. Well, Bucky knew what had gone wrong, but that couldn’t have been the source of it because Steve had told him that the Starks’ had been terrible parents…However he couldn’t justify anything with that arguement.

The only thing he could justify was that something had gone wonky and messed Stark up.

And there was also the fact that Tony never kept to a regular schedule. He slept irregular hours (whenever he pleased) ate whenever it struck him to (almost never) and only drank coffee, as far as Bucky knew. Bucky had been the one locked away and hidden from the world – he should be the one struggling to maintain human functions.

As soon as Bucky had showed semblance of interest in Stark, he’d opened immediately, and now he almost seemed reliant on Bucky. The sudden knowledge that someone trusted him like that scared him, seeing as he’d only known Stark for the two weeks.

But it also gave him something to look forward to. To have a new responsibility, that benefited another person was refreshing, and Bucky felt healthier with it. It felt like hope.

And yet, Bucky still wondered how Steve could ever leave such a hopeless kid behind.

-*-

Tony woke up with a jolt.

He was reclined on the couch in the television area, where he and Bucky had been watching James Bond, and he concluded that he must’ve fallen asleep again, seeing as the sun was already bright and shining.

Whenever he had fallen asleep during the movie nights, Bucky would place a blanket over him. Usually Bucky was the one to wake him up too – Tony didn’t know how, but whenever he fell asleep on that couch, it was like he went into comatose. He couldn’t wake up on his own.

But there was no Bucky there, so what had woken him up? JARVIS hadn’t, because he still would’ve been talking, and the light coming from outside wasn’t bright because the blinds were still drawn.

He received his answer when a muffled noise echoed out from the direction of Barnes’ room.

Tony jolted into a sitting position, the blanket falling to his waist. The noise had sounded like a cry of pain – it must’ve been loud too, because the walls of the mansion were fairly sound-proof.  

“JARVIS-” Tony began.

“Sir, I have been locked from accessing anything detailing information of Sergeant. Barnes room.”

Tony stood up so quickly, that his vision went dark around the edges. “Is there anything from before he entered his room that clues us in on what’s happening?”

An agonised scream made Tony flinch.

“Just before he entered his room, he seemed to be having problems with his left arm,” JARVIS answered calmly.

Well, he shouldn’t be having problems with his _right_ arm, for crying out loud.

“Crap,” Tony muttered, squeezing his eyes shut to rid of the sudden dizziness.

Tony didn’t want to intrude on Barnes. He couldn’t imagine how painful it would have been to have the arm installed, and to maintain it. Tony didn’t know how it worked, and his curiosity was killing him, but he knew he couldn’t ask. The arm wasn’t just a piece of tech – it was attached to a breathing organism. Who had a sensitive history.

 Another scream jolted him out of his thoughts.

“Fuck it,” Tony muttered, rushing towards Barnes’ room. The door was locked, so he used his override to open it. It took a moment to locate him when Tony reached his room. He had secluded himself to the furthest corner from the entrance and squashed himself into a ball. His hands were gripping his head, and Tony could imagine that to be painful, with the strength in his metal arm.

“Barnes?” Tony murmured, crouching on the floor just inside the room. He didn’t want to get to close. He knew trauma victims had varying responses during breakdowns.

“I know, I know,” Barnes was muttering. Tony realised that Barnes was shuddering as if he was cold.

 _He’s having a flashback_ , Tony’s mind told him, _Shit, shit, shit_ , how was Tony supposed to handle that?

“Barnes,” Tony began, attempting to make his voice sound steady and comforting, “You’re fine. You’re in a high security mansion in Malibu.”

Barnes showed no sign of hearing him.

Tony went on. “You’re fine. You’re safe. Nobodies making you do anything anymore. Barnes, can you hear me?”

Barnes inhaled heavily, his whole body tensing up, becoming a bigger presence in the room. His eyes, shiny and ominous, locked onto Tony’s.

Tony froze.

And then, because he was suicidal, he opened his mouth again. “What’s your name?” Tony asked cautiously.

He didn’t recieve an answer straight away, but Barnes did seem to be comprehending the question.

“My name…is Bucky,” Barnes growled, his voice wobbly from misuse.

“Okay, Bucky,” Tony whispered, shying away. This was good, at least he could communicate with him. “Do you…remember me?”

“…Howard?” Bucky’s voice cracked.

Tony felt a sensation in his heart, like a splinter shooting right through it, and he felt his entire body jerk.

“No,” he managed, “I’m his son. Tony.”

Barnes squinted, as if someone was shining a torch in his face. “Tony?”

“Yeah,” Tony breathed, “That’s me.”

Realisation passed over Barnes’ face, which quickly transformed into horror. “What did I do?”

“What? You didn’t do anything-” Tony rushed to say.

 “Are you hurt?” Barnes interrupted, his eyes glossing over Tony’s form searching for injuries. His eyes were wide, and Tony could see he was becoming cramped in the corner.

“I should be asking you that,” Tony countered. When Barnes only gazed at him anxiously, Tony sighed. “I’m fine.”

The confirmation seemed to cut the tension from Barnes’ body like strings on a puppet, and Tony felt comfortable enough to edge closer as Barnes relaxed.

“What happened?” Tony asked softly, tilting his head.

“I…” Barnes’ face contorted into a frown. “I don’t remember.”

Tony’s breath caught in his chest. “I had JARVIS check surveillance and…he said your arm was giving you trouble. Does that help?”

Barnes grimaced, running a hand over his suddenly weary-looking face. “I must’ve been trying to fix it.”

“It’s broken?” Tony enquired, curiously.

“No,” Bucky answered but his eyes flickered to his arm.

“Do you want me to look at it for you?”

Barnes jerked as if he’d been struck, but his eyes met Tony’s levelly.

“You think you could do that?”

“I don’t know if I can fix it, but I’ll run specs on it,” Tony told him with a shrug, trying to be casual about the whole thing. The technology was ground-breaking, and Tony knew it was not just mechanics involved in the integration of it in Barnes’ system. “I won’t look at it if you don’t want me to.”

Barnes had full autonomy of his own body and mind now, and Tony wanted to make sure he knew that, not matter how curious Tony was about his arm. Even if it may be putting Barnes through a lot of suffering.

“…it needs to be fixed,” Bucky spoke up hesitantly.

“Are you sure?” Tony asked him seriously, stilling his fidgeting fingers.

Barnes turned away from him, his head hanging between his knees. “No,” he said, almost too quiet for Tony to hear.

“I won’t be touching you physically,” Tony assured, just in case Barnes didn’t realise that.

Barnes eyes lifted once more to meet Tony’s, and he didn’t miss the ounce of relief in them.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

-*-

“Are you sure?” Stark asked him again once he’d sat Bucky down on the couch in his lab.

The only experiences Bucky had with people dealing with his arm had been bad, and he didn’t want his time with Stark to be tainted. But the overpowering pain was triggering flash-backs to maintenance sessions, some from more than fifty years ago, and they were sticking around like a bad smell.

His arm was a weapon. There wasn’t anyone better than Stark that could help him with this. And Stark had made it abundantly clear that he could back out of it at any time as he so wished. He’d also said it wouldn’t hurt, and he wouldn’t actually be touching him.

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, blinking up at Stark. He looked solemn.

Bucky wouldn’t be any more certain than he was, he knew that. Even if all he wanted to do was disappear, knowing Stark had seen him having a flashback. Tony hadn’t appeared bothered by his breakdown, and Bucky apparently hadn’t hurt him – except for calling him Howard.

He had barely enough strength to push down the guilt that was choking him from doing that, especially since he’d seen _Tony’s_ reaction to it, the flash of pain in his eyes…

The time it had taken Tony to coax Bucky out of his room and down into the lab, had allowed him to regain his senses, and he was no longer disoriented. Back in the room, he didn’t trust the opportunity for his arm to be checked over, with the memories so fresh in his mind, but now he was certain.

 “I’m sure,” Bucky insisted, as Stark continued to stare at him unwaveringly.

“Fine,” Stark relented, “It won’t hurt, but it’s still your choice.”

“I gathered that,” Bucky told him quietly, trying to catch Stark’s eye, to no avail. He was refusing to meet his gaze.

 “Alright,” Stark said loudly, ignoring what Bucky had said, “You ready?”

“Yes,” Bucky breathed.

Stark walked over to the couch. “I’m just doing a scan. Here.” Stark reached down and placed a gentle hand against Bucky’s right shoulder. “Hold your arm out.”

Bucky did as Stark said, lifting his arm out in front of him. He didn’t know how Stark could scan it when he didn’t have any tools on him. But he had said he wouldn’t be touching Bucky, so perhaps he was using a holograph.

“JARVIS, run a holograph,” Stark said, and Bucky could feel him searching his face for reactions.

Blue light suddenly encompassed his arm, moving up the limb to his shoulder. It was beautiful, and in a way, Bucky could almost feel it. He opened his palm out, as if to catch it.

“Stay still,” Tony murmured. Bucky glanced up to see his lips quirking, a twinkle in his eyes. He nodded once and did as Stark told him and stilled his arm, not taking his eyes away from Stark’s face.

“Alright, you can put your arm down now,” Stark chuckled, and Bucky turned, noticing the light was gone. His ears heated as he dropped his hand by his side. “Here.” Stark grabbed Bucky’s wrist and made him hold it out his hand, then he reached for a holograph hovering nearby and just…scrunched it up. Then he placed it in Bucky’s hand. “Gentle movements. You’ll get used it.”

“I can…touch it?”

“Play fetch if it pleases you.” Stark was already turning away, back to his usual self. “I’ll have to run diagnostics on the blue-print to see the source of the issue. Where’s it hurting?”

Bucky bit his tongue to stop himself from saying _everywhere_. It was a struggle, since he was so focused on the ball of light in his fingers. “My fingers,” he answered blandly. _The pain is in my fingers, which then goes to my entire arm, and then my head, which is also hurting_. It didn’t seem like the thing to say.

“Right.”

Barnes turned to see Stark bringing up the 3D blueprints of his arm, flitting his fingers this way and that and opening the panels as if it were the real deal. Bucky realised he was holding his breath as he watched.

“The problem isn’t in the fingers,” Stark told him.

Bucky wandered over to it in wonder, the ball of light forgotten. Stark gave him a quick glance, before swiping his fingers to the side. The action made the whole outer casing over the arm to separate with the internal wirings, so the blue print was just of the insides of the arm. “The structure of your arm is all over the place – some of the tech is older than others. Which I suppose comes from being created in the forties. Right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, still eying the tech.

“Well, makes for a lot of irregularities, and they’re all clashing. Probably why your arm is causing you so much grief. There isn’t a specific problem within the arm.”

Bucky frowned. “What do you mean?”

Tony rolled his eyes at himself. “Well, obviously, there _is_ a problem, otherwise you wouldn’t be in pain.” Stark was doing his babbling thing he did when he was either nervous or talking about technology. Bucky found it strangely endearing. “But there isn’t a specific problem, because the inter-workings of your arm are non-compatible. There is nothing to fix, because there isn’t a problem within it, the problem itself is the arm. It’s a faulty piece of tech, so no matter what I do to it, you’ll still be in pain. Do you know what I’m saying?” Tony asked after a huff of air.

Bucky stared at him, his eyes wide.

“Or did I just…break your brain?”

“Pretty sure my brain’s already broken,” Bucky chuckled finally. Then he bit his tongue – he usually didn’t say his self-deprecating thoughts out-loud. Steve would have had him hanged for that.

Stark pointed a finger at him. “Debatable. Have I broken your brain even more, then?”

Bucky lifted an eyebrow. “No…you called it a faulty piece of tech?”

“I mean, no offence.” Tony lifted his hands in a so-so gesture. “Ground-breaking, sure. But most ground-breaking things have flaws. This one’s flaw is that it _is_ the flaw.”

Bucky snorted. “You’re doing me wonders.”

Stark gave him a flat-lipped smile, which looked more like a grimace. “Sorry,” he said, “Usually people don’t listen to me ramble this long.”

Bucky didn’t respond straight away, finding that hard to believe. “I was just being a pest, Stark, forget me.”

Stark eyed him carefully. “I’d prefer if you called me Tony,”

If Bucky wasn’t so hyper-aware of Tony, he wouldn’t have noticed how he’d inched closer into Bucky’s space, enough so that Bucky could feel the warmth radiating from him. Or maybe he would have, since he always noticed these things anyway.

“Then quit calling me Barnes, would ya?” Bucky could feel the edge of his lip quirking, even if nervousness shot through him. He just hoped he didn’t mess up again and call him Howard.

Tony rolled his eyes playfully. “We’ll see about that, _Ducky_.”

“Here we go,” Bucky muttered.

Tony smirked, turning his attention back on the holographic copy of his arm. “This is going to be fun.”

Bucky shook his head in amusement. “Anyway, what do you suggest we do about my arm?”

“Well, I’ve never dealt with tech that’s been attached to a life-form before.”

“What about the bots’?” Bucky asked, looking over his shoulder at Dum-E, who was fooling around in the kitchen.

Stark huffed. “They don’t feel pain. You, however, have nerves. You super-soldiers think just because you’re stronger means you don’t feel pain.”

Bucky gazed at Stark contemplatively. “We aren’t the only ones.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony grumbled.

Bucky’s expression softened. “What if you could take the arm off?”

Tony’s head whipped around to face him. “What?”

Bucky looked down at his arm, and clenched his fist experimentally. “Could you take it off?”

“I mean, it’s possible.” Bucky looked back up at Tony. He had leaned bac against the work-bench, his arms crossed over his chest, a contemplative expression on his face. “Obviously, I won’t be able to do it on my own – it would be a collaboration with doctors that specialise in anatomy. And that’s all just in theory,” Tony added, “Assuming you do want to have it removed and replaced.”

“Will you…let me think about it?”

“Of course! This would take a lot of planning and processing anyway, and even longer when it comes into fruition. You’re enhanced, but it’ll be an arduous process, I guarantee.”

“You know that even though you don’t specialise in bodily anatomy?” Bucky questioned sceptically.

“Well, I can connect the dots.” Tony shrugged.

Bucky gazed away thoughtfully. Having a new arm…how privileged he was to be able to theorise the prospect of it with Tony?

“Would you like me to null the pain now?” Tony asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“You can do that without removing the arm?” Bucky asked. Tony had just said that he couldn’t fix the arm.

“Well I can tamper with the pain-receptors in your arm, which are obviously here, with the way its flashing.” Tony pointed to a specific spot in his arm. “The only thing is that it’ll also dull the amount you feel.”

Bucky allowed himself a moment to think. “Could you just…tone it down a little so I can still feel?”

Tony nodded vigorously, urging him with pushing motions back towards the couch. “This won’t hurt either – in fact, it’ll do the opposite.”

Bucky just smiled.

-*-

They were still in the lab hours later, after Tony had altered the pain-receptors of Bucky’s arm. It had taken longer than anticipated, since Bucky could still feel everything that was going on inside his arm, and he flinched every time a particular prod dragged him back into his memories, even though Tony didn’t do anything that hurt him.

The fact that Tony was just as tense as Bucky throughout the ordeal comforted him. It was clear that he was doing everything he could to make the situation more bearable.

“Alright, done,” Tony huffed, snapping the panels shut and throwing his delicate tools aside emphatically. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry.”

 _What for_? Bucky asked in his head, unable to find his voice. He may have been sweating, but relief was the most overwhelming factor. Sure, the entire feeling of his arm had dulled, but so had the pain. He hadn’t realised it’d been so over-powering until some of it had faded.

“Thank you.” Bucky’s voice was hoarse.

Tony paused, his shoulders hunched. “You’re welcome.”

Bucky was about to say something more, perhaps suggest that they could watch a movie. But as he was working himself up to it, JARVIS beat him to the chase.

“Sir, Lieutenant. Rhodes has arrived on premise.”

“Rhodey’s here already?” Tony asked in disbelief.

“Indeed. It’s been the same amount of time as he last visited. I’m so glad you’ve been keeping track.”

Tony smiled. “Can it with the snark, would you?”

“I learn from the best,” JARVIS countered.

“Tell him I’m in the lab.”

“Yes,” JARVIS began drolly, “Where else would you be?”

“Hey!” Tony protested, “I’ve been outside the lab loads. “

“With the help of Sergeant. Barnes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Tony responded, though he had a constipated look on his face.

He opened his mouth to say something more when a dark-skinned man in military attire, who must’ve been the Lieutenant Rhodes JARVIS was talking about, came into view. Bucky knew he existed of course – he’d heard Tony chatter about him, and before that Steve had mentioned him in passing.

Rhodes spotted them through the glass, pausing to look at both of them sceptically, before entering the code to the lab.

“Rhodey-” Tony began, being ruthlessly cut off.

“Any reason why Sergeant Barnes is sitting in your lab?” Rhodes asked carefully. Bucky tensed up. Not a lot of people knew of his identity, but being in the military, it made sense that the Lieutenant did.

“Uh, because I invited him to stay here?” Tony answered.

Rhodey eyed him speculatively. “Uh huh. Care to tell me why?”

Tony glanced back to cast an uncertain look at Bucky. He was asking for permission, Bucky realised, tensing up further.

Bucky didn’t know how far he could extend his trust to one of Tony’s close friends, no matter how easily he found it to trust Tony. Well, what more could go wrong in his life? He was safe in Tony’s hospitality, and he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Rhodes wouldn’t be able to hold anything against him.

“It’s my fault,” he muttered, which gained the Lieutenant’s attention, “I led Hydra operatives right to me.”

The world had learnt of Hydra’s still-remaining existence when Sergeant Barnes had been recovered as the identity of the Winter Soldier, and people had adapted to that quickly. Bucky didn’t know what was happening after that – SHIELD hadn’t informed him because he wasn’t an informant obviously. They’d helped him be pardoned, and now they were all but done with him. Well, except for assigning him with a mental health plan and a therapist, which he’d been ignoring for the last month.

“What does that have to do with you being here?” Rhodey questioned, unfazed. Bucky risked a glance to Tony, who was standing off to the side. He looked out of place, like a kid.

“I invited him here because his apartment was infiltrated. I didn’t want him to be on the run again.” Tony answered before Bucky could say anything more.

Rhodes rounded on Tony. “You invited him to stay _here_? With you and Steve?” he challenged, expression sardonic.

Tony lifted his chin defiantly. “Steve moved out.” 

Rhodey stared at Tony, his expression turning from sardonic to stricken in an instant. “Tony, Christ, I didn’t know- “

Bucky, who had stood up when Rhodey had rounded on Tony, ready to defend him against Rhodes’ aggression, now stood their awkwardly. It was clear that this wasn’t for him to see.

Rhodey noticed as well, because his gaze flitted back to Bucky. “Would you give us a moment, please, Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky nodded, making his way for the lab door, Tony’s eyes following him the entire way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tony, he can’t escape conflict from anyone! Next chapter should come sooner, featuring Rhodey and Tony deep discussion and a proper introduction with the two James’! Hope you enjoyed ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what Rogers thinks of this, Rhodey thought with bitter amusement.
> 
> It was like they were trying to dance around each other and meet in the middle simultaneously. This was one of the weirdest interaction’s he’s seen Tony having, and he’s witnessed him and Pepper going for each other’s throats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have Rhodey! I’m happy. I love writing from his perspective, it’s really refreshing. I can really put myself in his shoes for some reason ;D
> 
> This chapter is mostly fluff! And a little touchy feely stuff at the end from our candidate assassin and genius 
> 
> Enjoy!

Rhodey watched Bucky until he disappeared up the stairs, then turned back to Tony.

“Alright.” Rhodey shrugged his shoulders up, faux nonchalant. “I deserve an explanation.”

“Ah, that you do,” Tony sighed. He could never catch a break.

“What the hell happened?” Rhodey demanded, voice tight with tension. However, the only expression on his face was concern.

Tony met his gaze unblinkingly for a moment before answering. “Steve and I aren’t really talking right now,” Tony explained blandly.

Rhodey stared at Tony impassively, long enough for him to start fidgeting and try to find elsewhere to look.

“Are you kidding?” Rhodey asked. It sounded rhetorical, but Tony responded anyway.

“Um…no?” Tony answered, cringing.

“Tony, Christ, I’ve been away working, and you didn’t give me a heads up to what was happening. I deserve more than that.”

The words had the alarms blaring in his head.

This wasn’t Rhodey being amused and frustrated. This was Rhodey being serious and wary, and Tony hated to make him that way. He _knew_ Rhodey deserved more than that.

Tony slumped in on himself. Rhodey always did have a knack for making him cave.

“I’m sorry,” Tony muttered, “I don’t know what I did, or didn’t do, but between that, I guess Steve decided he didn’t want to stick around any longer.”

Tony hadn’t let himself dwell too much on the fact that Steve had left after Barnes had arrived, mostly because Tony was afraid that his pain was too obvious. He caught the way Bucky looked at him sometimes – the pity was overwhelming, and frankly Tony didn’t know how to respond to it. Besides, Bucky took up a lot of his attention nowadays – even managing to distract him from working on his gadgets (and his projects).

That had prevented him from thinking about Steve, or rather thinking too _much_ about Steve.

After…after his parents had died, Tony had practically imprinted on Peggy and Steve, and he was to grief-stricken and young to know that the emotional attachment would only lead to more pain.

Tony couldn’t help thinking about the days Steve would come back from work, or long missions, and sit with him in the kitchen when neither could sleep. That had happened less often as time passed on, and Tony had only later realised why; Steve and Peggy had been drifting apart.

Tony hadn’t even realised they weren’t together anymore, and hadn’t been for a while.

He didn’t know why, but the most blatant reason he could find was their appearances. Whilst Peggy was growing older, and despite what she insisted, frailer, Steve remained the same.

She’d moved on too, from whatever it was that Steve was stuck on from the past. Or maybe that was the thing – Steve was stuck in the past.

That must’ve been their source of conflict. And Tony was in the middle of it. He suspected that still could be a part of the problem. Hell, _he_ was a part of the problem.

Maybe Steve just needed a break from Tony. He could be a lot to handle at times.

“Oh, Tony,” Rhodey murmured, drawing him back to the present. Suddenly, Rhodey was there, a warm and solid presence pressing against him and providing the comfort he could.

This was why he didn’t like thinking about Steve: he couldn’t hide the emotions that it caused to cover his face. It was so obvious Tony might as well have said it aloud.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’ve seen this happening for a while,” Rhodey murmured into his hair.

Tony gripped Rhodey’s uniform, burying his face further into his friend’s chest. “I know.”

The two of them may act civil around each other, but the tension between Rhodey and Steve was so obvious that Tony could choke on it.

Rhodey withdrew to gaze down at Tony’s face. “He’ll come back, Tony.”

Tony couldn’t control the scoff that escaped him, twisting away from the embrace. Rhodey let him go.

“I know you hate anything that could resemble being in your favour…” Rhodey began, his voice rising, “but I know how much Steve needs you. Even if I don’t like him, I know that. In fact, right now, he’s probably missing you more than your missing him.”

“Rhodey-” Tony started, his pitch high with frustration. He cut himself off. He didn’t need to chase away any more people he loved. They didn’t talk about these sorts of things, and so it wasn’t easy for Tony to hear them now and understand them for the truth they were.

After the silence had stretched on for a while longer, Rhodey spoke up again.

“And what of Barnes?”

The air swept out of his lungs with a gust. “He- uh…he needs a place to crash for a while. His apartment was ransacked.”

Rhodey nodded, though he still eyed Tony sceptically. “And you’re alright with this?”

“He’s fine, Rhodey,” Tony told him quietly, “He listens to me, he lets me make him watch terrible movies, and listens when I talk about tech…”

“He looked like he was about two seconds away from strangling you just now,” Rhodey countered drily, his eyes narrowed. He wasn’t having it.

“Yeah, well, he’s been a mentally manipulated assassin for over fifty years, so I can imagine that would mess with his facial expressions,” Tony retorted, moving past Rhodey to fixate his attention on one of his side-projects. The level of emotional investment in this conversation was too much for him to handle.

“Is he even safe to be around?” Rhodey asked incredulously, shadowing him.

“No less safe than being around me.” Tony picked up a spanner that was laying conveniently on the bench and pointed it at Rhodey. “Or you for that matter.”

“You aren’t taking this seriously,” Rhodey observed mildly, running a hand down his face.

That’s what everybody was always saying about Tony. Why did they think that?

“Barnes hasn’t done anything to me, Rhodey,” Tony told him reasonably, “He doesn’t deserve punishment just because he’s Steve’s friend.”

“That’s what I’m worried about, Tones,” Rhodey insisted, eyes wide with concern, “He’s friends with Steve – can he be trusted?”

Tony almost laughed. He was acting like Steve wanted to stab him in the back.

Or maybe he did…Tony didn’t know anymore.

He was too tired to try and find out. But he felt like he could trust Bucky, hence why he was so clingy now. Tony was surprised Bucky wasn’t calling him a flea.

It was probably another disaster waiting to happen, with Tony being emotionally attached already, but what could he do?

Tony smacked the spanner into the palm of his hand. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Rhodey stared at him, eyes comically wide with disbelief. That was better. Better than him being wary and serious.

Rhodey slumped in on himself, shaking his head, and muttering curses. “You reckless little shit, making me age ten times faster, I swear to god.”

Tony only laughed in delight, letting himself be pulled into a side hug from his friend.

-*-

When Rhodey walked out of the lab and into the kitchen, with Tony in tow, he hadn’t expected Barnes to be there.

And it seemed like Barnes hadn’t expected them either, because he became tense upon spotting them.

“Sarge, I liked to apologise for the way I greeted you back there,” Rhodey began, walking up to the man and extending his hand formally, “I’m Lieutenant Rhodes, but call me Rhodey.”

Barnes suddenly looked skittish, and he gazed around like he’d rather be anywhere else. His gaze was fixed at a point over Rhodey’s left shoulder for a few moments, and he took it that Barnes was looking at Tony.

Finally, he reached out and took Rhodey’s hand, giving it a tentative shake. Funny, Rhodey thought he was a Super Soldier.

“You can call me Bucky.”

“Or,” Tony interjected, “We could call both of you James.”

Rhodey shared a narrow-eyed look with Barnes, before they both turned to Tony. “You really enjoy making my life hell, huh?”

 Tony swaggered around to rest his elbows on the island, giving them a shit-eating grin. “I enjoy the simple things.”

“Like making a mess,” Barnes drawled. Rhodey kept the surprise of Barnes speaking up to himself.

Tony shrugged nonchalantly. “That works.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Let me talk like an adult to Barnes for a minute, would you?”

“You shouldn’t leave a toddler unsupervised, Lieutenant,” Barnes warned him, giving him a side-eyed look. He’d said it with a straight face and a flat voice, but Rhodey could hear the joke.

“Hey!” Tony exclaimed.

“Agreed. Anyway, I’m sorry again about earlier,” he dove straight in, because if they didn’t stop focusing on Tony, he’d never get this out. “I see the reason in you staying here, and agree that its feasible- “

“Even though it’s not up to you to confirm my decisions,” Tony muttered.

“-even through the circumstances of this situation. You’ve got every right to be here.”

“Why are _you_ telling him this?” Tony whined.

“Because you don’t have the ability to,” Rhodey retorted, keeping his eyes trained on Barnes to gauge his reaction.

He looked between Rhodey and Tony, before seeming to nod in agreement. “Thank you, Rhodey.”

“Well, now that’s over with – can we eat?”

“We aren’t ordering take away, you pig,” Rhodey told him accusingly.

“He means he wants me to cook for him,” Barnes told him, a small smile playing on his lips.

Rhodey turned to face Tony, who was looking right at Barnes with a wide-eyed expression, completely serious. “So, will you?”

“Do I have a choice?” Barnes complained, and Rhodey saw something in Tony’s face flicker briefly.

“Well, you are the superior being, so it’s up to you if you give in to my needs,” Tony responded, off-handed. His eyes met Rhodey’s however, before trying to avoid his gaze.

Those two were an odd pair, that was for sure. Rhodey didn’t like this below-the-surface thing they had going on. A lot of things went unspoken with Tony, and so Rhodey had to figure it out on his own most of the time. It looked like this was one of those times.

 _I wonder what Rogers thinks of this_ , Rhodey thought with bitter amusement.

It was like they were trying to dance around each other and meet in the middle simultaneously. This was one of the weirdest interaction’s he’s seen Tony having, and he’s witnessed him and Pepper going for each other’s throats.

“Where’s Pepper been?” Rhodey piped up when he noticed a lull in their…conversation. May as well ask when she was still fresh in his mind.

Tony grimaced. “Scheming?”

Rhodey sighed. “That woman could take over the world right underneath your nose, man.”

“She could do it without my help,” Tony added.

“Of course, she can – you’re the one that needs her.”

Tony’s eyes flicked to Barnes for a split second – so fast that Rhodey wasn’t sure if he’d even spotted it.

“And doesn’t she know it,” Tony grumbled. Rhodey believed his grumbling was flatter than usual. “She should be around soon to nag me about conferences soon, so you should see her.”

“Thank god,” Rhodey breathed. Barnes overheard him and sent him a faintly amused glance.

He was moving around the kitchen, already preparing a meal, and Rhodey took it that he had been in there a lot for the few weeks he’d been.

“Would you like some as well, Lieutenant?” Barnes asked him.

“It’s _Rhodey_ , and what are we having?”

“Pea soup.”

“ _Again_?” Tony demanded incredulously.

“I thought you liked it,” Barnes responded, forlorn.

“No, no, no, I do,” Tony rushed to assure, “It’s just…can you cook something else?”

“Can _you_?” Barnes countered.

Rhodey let out a hum of amusement. Maybe he should let Tony order take-away.

“Should I cook?” Rhodey asked, always the one to intervene with a solution. For a genius, Tony could be a bit thick in the head.

“No” Tony and Barnes said in unison.

Rhodey smacked his hand on the bench. “Then I could do with a pizza.”

While Tony was stuttering with a suitable response, Rhodey told JARVIS what to order, as well as whatever Barnes had.

“ _Two large pepperonis_?” Rhodey stared at him, then shot a glance at Tony, “Does he know how big they are?”

Tony grinned. “Oh, yeah, we’ve had pizza before. JARVIS, order everyone’s usual.”

God, Super Soldiers were weird. He’d known Steve for as long as he’d been friends with Tony, but they were still a foreign subject to him. _Especially_ the one with a metal arm in Tony’s kitchen.

-*-

Bucky went to bed that night feeling content.

They’d ordered the pizzas and settled down on the couch to eat, but this time Tony hadn’t turned the television on to watch a movie, instead content with conversing with Rhodey and Bucky.

Bucky freely admitted to himself that he enjoyed having a conversation with Tony more than watching movies, especially since he seemed to come to life with his friend around to keep him on his toes.

Bucky had a hard time believing it was real, was the only problem. Rhodey was extremely accepting of Bucky and his circumstances, even though he was friends with Steve, who he’d made obvious through hints had hurt Tony.

Of course, Bucky had picked up on that himself.

And, of course, Tony had accepted him into his home with open arms. Bucky wouldn’t call Tony his friend, because the word didn’t seem to describe him very well, but he was along those lines.

Shortly after dinner, Rhodey retired for the night. He didn’t say it, but he was clearly exhausted from working away for a while. Bucky thought Tony would leave after Rhodey, but Tony stayed with Bucky, content to sit and talk for a while.

“You good?” he asked after a lull in conversation, his brow crinkled in concern.

Bucky tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Rhodey burst in on us in the lab after I messed with your arm. Didn’t get the chance to ask how it’s going.”

Subconsciously, his focus went to his left arm and how it felt. Or, rather, the lack of feeling in it. The pain was no longer burdening him – he’d forgotten all about it.

“Better,” he answered, looking back at Tony.

“Yeah?” Tony asked hopefully, “You can still feel it though? Even a bit of pain?”

“Just a twinge, and I have to be careful with the strength,” Bucky reported.

Tony nodded solemnly.

“And how about…” Tony paused, “How are _you_ feeling?”

He froze. Tony must have been talking about the flash-back that he witnessed Bucky having.  “I…” Bucky swallowed. “I’m sorry you saw that.”

“James, don’t even-“

“James?” Bucky chocked out.

“Sorry.” Tony looked away, flustered. He regained himself before starting over. “Bucky. Only thing I’m worried about is you.”

“Okay,” Bucky said seriously.

“So, are you alright?” Tony ventured, his hand shifting until it was inches away from Bucky’s where it was resting on the couch. Bucky was openly staring at Tony’s hand before he caught himself.

“I don’t know,” Bucky answered honestly.

“Okay,” Tony said, devoid of emotion. When Bucky gave him a worried look he was quick to reassure him. “No, that’s okay. I never know these kinds of things either.”

Bucky let out a strangled laugh. After a moment, Tony joined him.

“Guess we’ll have to work on it,” Bucky murmured, his gaze drifting back to their hands, inches apart.

That sat in silence for a little while, relaxed against the plush sofa and gazing out the window. JARVIS had dimmed the light inside, which made it easier to see the stars over the sea.

It was calm, and it reminded Bucky of his first night staying when he’d sought refuge. Tony speaking about not liking the cold…

 “We better rest,” Bucky told Tony, sounding more forlorn than he’d like to admit. He didn’t want to be thinking of cold with Tony right next to him.

“You mean _you_ better rest,” Tony retorted.

“You need it more than I do,” Bucky reminded him.

Tony huffed. “You keep reminding me of that, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled softly at Tony’s antics. “I think… I like James more.”

“Oh, thang god. ‘Bucky’ feels really weird coming out of my mouth.”

“I agree,” Bucky told him.

“I’m glad,” Tony shot back.

“Go to bed,” Bucky ordered him shortly, and Tony shrivelled down so he was slumped on the couch.

“I’m happy here,” Tony stated.

Resolve settling over him, Bucky stood up and reached out to grab Tony’s arm and yank him to his feet.

“Jesus!” Tony gasped, lurching forward. Bucky was the only thing preventing him from toppling on top of the coffee table. “Warn a guy, would you?”

“ _Go to bed_ , would you?” Bucky countered, reaching up to hold the nape of Tony’s neck.

“Touché,” Tony muttered, stilling under Bucky’s hand. Bucky had a moment to fret about his move being too bold when Tony went pliant, and leant into him. “Where’s the master bedroom again?”

Bucky wasn’t really used to other people being this close to him other than in combat scenarios – and Steve hugging him. But, it was Steve…so slightly different circumstances. When he hugged Steve, he didn’t notice how warm he was or how easy he was to manoeuvre (mostly because he was a brick wall of muscle). It was nice hugging Steve, the contact brought him back down to earth. But hugging Steve was almost like hugging a memory.

Touching Tony far more grounding.

He realised that he’d been standing there holding Tony’s neck too long, and he relaxed his grip to release the hold.

Unfortunately, that led to him sliding his hand down the top of Tony’s spine and feeling the ridges of bone underneath his t-shirt.

“You don’t know where your own bedroom is?” Bucky enquired, attempting to sound playful. He missed the mark, sounding instead quiet and husky.

“Don’t spend a lot of time in there, as you know,” Tony responded casually, turning to look at Bucky’s face whilst arching into his touch.

“You should,” Bucky told him, then realised the implications of what he’d said, and bit his lip.

Tony laughed brightly, his head tipping back. By now, Bucky’s hand was resting on the small of his back, and the sound of his laughter made Bucky want to pull him closer. His hand slipped around to Tony’s hip before he could stop himself, but he balled up his fist before he could do anything more. The moment felt so delicate.

Tony wasn’t helping at all. He seemed oblivious to Bucky’s conflict about the contact, only leaning into the loop of Bucky’s flesh arm. This close, Tony felt more fragile, and soft. He looked younger too.

“You could be my doctor with how much you’re nagging me,” Tony complained, unserious.

“Anyone could be your doctor Tony.”

Tony let out a husky chuckle. “Right.” He stepped out of the embrace, breaking their contact gently. “Should put it into practice like a good scientist, then,” Tony said with a crooked smile.

“Give me the results tomorrow morning,” Bucky replied with his own smile.

They were walking on the edge of the precipice of something, and the fragility of the situation made Bucky unsure of what else to say.

He was sure of one thing though: he wanted to hold Tony again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you have any questions, or constructive feedback! My brain is a jumpy place, so naturally my writing can be like that too :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t stop the question echoing from the back of his mind about why Steve didn’t want a part of this anymore. It wasn’t up to Bucky to solve this problem, no matter if he was a part of it indirectly.
> 
> Tony, as well as Rhodey after a period of warming up to him, had been nothing but supportive of him. And even Pepper was showing support, even if she did to act professional because of her status.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this is later than I anticipated. Just tell me to shut up already. This chapter is pretty unedited do to my haste to finish it and post it up, but its leading up to where I want this story to be so yeet. Short and sweet I guess?
> 
> I’ve been heavily inspired by this movie on war reporting, and so I’m putting a twist on how Tony becomes Iron Man with a no less beautiful and noble reasoning. Spoilers: a near miss and the effects of that will wake Tony up. I honestly thought we’d get to Afghanistan in this chapter, but I was very wrong! I plan to in the next chapter. 
> 
> Also: have some Steve and Pepper!

Steve had lost communication to base only a few hours into the mission. That had been days ago.

He had the STRIKE team at his side, and he was grateful for the support, but the situation called for something more than just their ground force. They were talented individuals, but that was just it – they were individuals; they didn’t work as a cohesive unit.

There was also something wrong. Steve could sense it heavy in the air. They were isolated on hostile territory, and they couldn’t call for back up – never mind that it should already be on the way.

The STRIKE team didn’t seem too fussed either, which was also putting Steve on edge. They had a lot to lose, especially with how cornered they were.

“Check the outposts, Rumlow,” Steve ordered the agent tightly, not taking his eyes of their target – the terrorist base they were sent to swarm. There were too many explosives – SHIELD hadn’t prepared them for that. There was only supposed to be men with guns and hostages, nothing more.

Rumlow gave a sideward glance. “We’ve got a man there, Cap.” He sounded incredulous.

“Any sign of back up?”

Rumlow shook his head, and didn’t say anything more.

This entire situation was making Steve uneasy. What the hell was going on?

-*-

“Sir, Miss Potts is searching for you,” JARVIS injected, halting the conversation Bucky was having with Tony and Rhodes in the kitchen. They had spent little time in Tony’s lab since Rhodey had been here, and Bucky was grateful for it. Tony always seemed more distant after working in the lab. “Shall I inform her of your whereabouts?”

“Instead of what, letting her hunt me down?” Tony asked incredulously, “Tell her we’re in the kitchen.”

Rhodey grinned over at Tony. “You’ll have to give her some leave so she can recover from the shock.”

Tony gave him a scathing look. “Bite me.”

They were sitting on the stools around the island snacking on left-overs, and the more time Bucky was spending with them, the more he and Rhodey were bonding over teasing Tony. Tony always acted exasperated by it, but his amusement was obvious. He was practically preening with the attention.

“Mister Stark,” a voice rang out from the doorway. The three of them turned to face the source of the voice; Pepper, who was carrying a stack of paper.

“Brace yourself,” Rhodey leaned over to mutter in Bucky’s ear.

“Miss Potts,” Tony greeted coolly, “Long time, no see. How’s my company?”

“Good,” Pepper responded curtly, “I should know, I’ve been running it.”

Tony licked his lips, trying to hide his smile. “Market hasn’t crashed then, I take it?”

“No, Tony,” Pepper admonished, “But it will if we don’t recalibrate.”

Tony gave a dramatic huff and rolled his eyes. “You keep saying that. ‘ _Recalibrate, recalibrate, recalibrate_ ’. We’re doing better than ever- “

“We’ve hit a plateau,” Pepper protested, “Your entire board is saying it. You would know this if you attended the meetings.”

Tony gave her a pointed look. “You know me and board meetings are disasters waiting to happen.”

“Fair enough,” Pepper relented, “But we need to do something that’ll pike interest. You need to act on the company’s behalf. You’ve been very quiet, and it’s raising suspicion.”

Some of that may have been Bucky’s fault. He’d been distracting Tony from working so much in the lab, and although it was for the good of the man, he supposed it wasn’t so great for the company.

“I know,” Rhodey spoke up, thoughtfully, “You could do a talk in front of a military crowd.”

“That is so boring,” Tony complained, turning to Rhodey with an incredulous look, “I can do a ‘talk’? Seriously?”

“You’ll put your own special little spin on it, anyway,” Rhodey retorted, rolling his eyes, “You always do.”

Tony mock gasped. “I resent that- “

“You know very well the reason I don’t waste my time writing speeches for you,” Pepper said. She came over to the island and dropped the stack of papers next to Tony. “Sign these.”

Bucky hadn’t even had time to think, let alone add his input. Their conversation was so fast – and Bucky had thought _Rhodes_ kept Tony on his toes. Pepper could really keep up with the speed of Tony’s thought process. Or was it the other way around?

She hadn’t even cast a questioning eye in his direction. She was working, Bucky supposed.

“Besides,” Rhodey began, “You won’t be bored making a speech in Afghanistan.”

Tony halted with his furious scribbling on the papers, ignoring Pepper’s protest. “You’re suggesting I go to a war zone to make a speech?”

Bucky’s raised his eyebrow.

Pepper hummed, prodding Tony and getting him to continue writing. “It’ll definitely send a message. You’re a weapons designer after all. You making an appearance will show your investment to the company and that you actually care about the military’s activities with your designs.”

Tony didn’t lift his head but he did make a thoughtful noise from the back of his throat.

“I’ll be going back anyway, so you can fly with me,” Rhodes offered, sounding casual, but when Bucky looked over at him, Rhodey was watching Tony closely for a reaction. They were all trying to gauge his response.

Eventually, Tony must have noticed how quiet it was due to the lack of talking and he glanced up to see everyone was looking at him.

“What?” he asked, bemused.

“What do you think, Tony?” Pepper asked, “Will you do it?”

Tony huffed, looking away to let himself think. Then he met Rhodey’s gaze. “You said you were going to bring me across one day. Why not now?”

His friend gave him a crooked smile. “I appreciate it, man,” he said, softly.

“And so will the stocks,” Pepper told Tony cheekily.

“You’re all a pain in my ass,” Tony grumbled. He seemed to realise that Bucky hadn’t said anything for a while, so he looked up and met his gaze. “What do you think?”

Bucky bit his lip. It sounded like a good opportunity for Rhodey, Tony and the company for different reasons. It’ll be good for Tony’s image, it’ll get people talking about Stark Industries, and it’ll show Tony’s respect to not only the military but his professional relationship with Rhodes.

“It’s a good opportunity,” Bucky told him earnestly, forcing himself not to add _it’s your choice_. It may be painfully true, but Tony had gone out of his way to show how many options Bucky had with him, so he didn’t want to throw that back in his face when he was asking of Bucky’s opinion on an important matter. The fact that Tony asked for his input at all was breath-taking. They’d come a long way.

The only thing was, Tony would be away and Bucky would be alone. When he’d first come to the mansion, he wouldn’t have minded, but he’d become accustomed to Tony’s presence and how grounding it was.

“You could always come along,” Pepper suggested, breaking the silence. Bucky lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Famous war-hero and prisoner of war survivor? That would definitely get the talk up.”

Bucky opened his mouth, but Tony beat him to it.

“Why so shrewd, Miss Potts?” Tony asked with a small smile. He was speaking as if Bucky wouldn’t have any other answer but yes.

Maybe he didn’t, but being in a war-zone again…he wasn’t sure he was ready. Maybe the worst it would make him is nostalgic, but Bucky didn’t want to risk it.

“Can I think about it?” Bucky asked hesitantly.

A gentle hand on his shoulder had him turning his head. Rhodey was giving him a comforting smile. “Nobody’s forcing you. We’ll understand if you don’t come, since you don’t have strings to the military or Stark Industries.”

With Bucky’s history, he didn’t know how much that was true for either of them. Bucky _had_ been in the military, and he was living with Tony now, so Rhodey’s statement could just be a way of giving him an out.

Unable to help himself, Bucky sought Tony’s gaze for an answer. The man was looking at him steadily, his dark eyes filled with curiosity. He gave an encouraging smile when he saw Bucky looking his way.

“Thank you,” he finally settled on, his mouth twitching up.

The opportunity could be good for him, too. The fact he was getting any was amazing. Pepper hadn’t even hesitated to suggest it, Rhodey and Tony both went along with it seamlessly.

Tony glanced up at Pepper questioningly. “Will that be all?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to put too much on your plate, would I?” She smiled sweetly down at Tony, leaning over him to grab the signed papers. “You are a male after all.”

“Is that sexism I hear, Potts?” Tony demanded.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Pepper dismissed impassively.

Beside him, Rhodey shook his head, and Bucky turned to see him gazing at Tony and Pepper fondly. He caught Bucky watching him and gave a sheepish smile.

Bucky remembered how warmly he spoke of Pepper, and couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’ll best be off for now,” Pepper huffed, standing up straight having gathered all the papers and composed herself, “I’ll be back in the next few days to inform you of the preparations. Let me know what you’ve decided when I come by, Mister Barnes.”

“Uh, yes m’am,” Bucky replied.

Pepper turned to Tony. “And if I may?”

“Yes, dear.” Tony nodded.

“Keep Mister Barnes around,” she told him with a mischievous smile, “He seems to help keep your head on.”

“I try, Pepper,” Rhodey said with a long-suffering sigh.

Bucky just bit his lip again, not admitting to himself that he revelled in the fact that Pepper thought he was good for Tony to be around.

He couldn’t stop the question echoing from the back of his mind about why Steve didn’t want a part of this anymore. It wasn’t up to Bucky to solve this problem, no matter if he was a part of it indirectly.

Tony, as well as Rhodey after a period of warming up to him, had been nothing but supportive of him. And even Pepper was showing support, even if she did to act professional because of her status.

Bucky hadn’t thought about it, it had happened to sneak up on him so gradually, but he was content with how his life was right then.

Things could always be better, he knew that. But that was always the case. He was just embracing it.

And if he was more attached to Tony than he could admit to himself, it was fine. The entire situation had been more than he had ever bargained for.

As it turned out, _Tony_ was more than he could have ever hoped to bargain for.

-*-

Bucky hadn’t anticipated for Tony to be in the kitchen when he’d left his room at three o’clock in the morning, seeking reprieve.

The thoughts of going to Afghanistan with Tony and Rhodey had kept him up long after Pepper had left and they’d moved on to address other things.

He’d tossed and turned, then scolded himself for letting himself suffer trying to find sleep when he didn’t necessarily need it in that moment, hence why he’d got out of bed.

But Tony was in the kitchen, hunched over a mug on the island, and Bucky suspected he didn’t expect Bucky there, due to his state of undress.

Bucky was glad he’d put on a sweater. He usually didn’t sleep with one on because the material felt overbearing on his skin – especially on the rawness surrounding his shoulder. It was sensitive all the time, so Bucky was grateful for the reprieve. He’d rather go without some days, but he didn’t like the junction of his shoulder where the metal met it and he’d rather not be reminded of it by showcasing it to the world, even if it was just Tony most of the time.

Upon spotting Bucky, Tony lifted his head, eyes wide with surprise. He looked worn-out, his hair mussed up and his eyes lidded with fatigue. Bucky wondered what had made him come out.

“James,” Tony greeted quietly, hunching in on himself slightly to hide his bare torso. His voice sounded gravelly from sleep, too.

“What are you doing up?” Bucky asked, concerned. He made his way to Tony’s side and sat on the stool beside him.

Tony shifted so he was facing Bucky, and his arms came to fold over his chest. “I couldn’t sleep,” he answered, his voice still soft.

“Me neither,” Bucky admitted, resting his forearm on the island. “I don’t know about Afghanistan.”

Tony lowered his eyes, avoiding Bucky’s gaze carefully. “Fair enough.”

Bucky couldn’t help but be aware of how small Tony was making himself, like he was trying to hide. What had provoked that? Nothing good, Bucky knew. He wanted to reach out and bring Tony back out of his own head.

He forced himself not to notice Tony’s bare body, either. Surprisingly enough, his torso and upper body was tanned like the rest of him. His skin was naturally darker than Bucky’s, and he spent little time in the sun, so it was little surprise it was natural. _It must be his Italian genetics_ , Bucky assumed. His eyes were dark, as well as his hair. _His hair is curly, too_ , Bucky’s mind added, unhelpfully.

Despite looking toned, Tony still looked vulnerable, his skin soft and looking welcoming to touch.

“What kept you up?” Bucky ventured daringly, rubbing the fingers of his right hand together so he wouldn’t reach out, as much as he wanted to. He and Tony hadn’t had much physical contact like their embrace the few nights before, and Bucky didn’t know how to instigate it or know if it was appropriate. Now the urge was more over-powering, because of how small Tony looked, and because of Bucky’s desire to comfort.

Tony sighed, his eyes fluttering closed briefly. What could’ve made Tony like this? He had never revealed his emotions like this. Perhaps he was being so open because he’d caught him so early, with him being tired and emotionally vulnerable.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Tony huffed, looking back up at Bucky with a smile, sad mood forgotten, “Why you asking me huh? You’ve got it worse.”

Bucky just gazed at Tony. “We’re all human here.”

“Most of us,” Tony corrected, with a tilt of his head, “You’re something else, now.”

For some reason, Bucky didn’t think he was referring to the serum.

“You calling me old?” Bucky asked instead, to lighten their conversation, his lips quirking into a smile. Tony gave him a sheepish grin, not bothering to deny it. “Bastard,” Bucky muttered, trying to sound grumpy.

“Hey, I’m not the eighty-five-year-old that only looks thirty,” Tony protested, “You could be in thirty going on _three-hundred_.”

“What?” Bucky narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Ah never mind.” Tony waved it off with a dismissive flick of his hand. “I’ll show you the movie later.”

Bucky nodded, but wasn’t comforted.

Tony shrank back in on himself, losing the playful glint in his eye again. “So…what about Afghanistan?” he asked, his voice quiet with uncertainty.

“It’s not safe,” Bucky responded honestly, “I don’t know if…I can handle it.”

Tony’s gaze lifted so it rested heavy on Bucky’s face, assessing him, yet without a cynical tone at all. Bucky gazed back steadily, the knots in his stomach releasing until all he felt was nerves from the direct attention.

“It could be inspiring for the soldiers,” Tony said, “Yet again, you’re sort of in hiding anyway, and like you said, it might not be good…for you.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not worth the consequences.”

Tony gave him a tight, closed lipped smile, reaching out and placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, away from where it was covering his stomach. Bucky looked down at his hand before meeting Tony’s gaze with wide eyes.

“You aren’t as hated as much as you think, you know?” Tony told him, his expression earnest.

Bucky licked his lips, then broke their eye contact. He found it difficult to maintain it with Tony since his eyes were so intense, almost like he could see right into Bucky’s head.

Tony’s hand slid away and Bucky had trouble not grabbing it.

“Better safe than sorry,” Tony said, the corner of his mouth quirking, “Wouldn’t want to give anybody a heart attack, would we?”

Bucky smiled at that, then shook his head.

Tony stayed with Bucky sitting on the island until he was finished drinking his coffee. Once it was done he stood up to leave.

“I better get some work done,” he said, his voice lacking enthusiasm, “Would you…I mean…you free to come down?”

Bucky couldn’t control the grin, but he did wipe it off a moment later. “Yeah, I’ll come down.”

Tony made a gesture with his hand – balled his hand into a fist and shook it about. Bucky didn’t know what to make of it, but it looked triumphant.

“I’ll meet you down there, Ducky,” Tony told him, “JARVIS will let you in.”

And with that, he turned around and walked out of the kitchen. Bucky eyed the lines of his retreating back until he disappeared, then he forced himself to look away from the doorway.

What part of him thought it was a good idea to spend more time with someone he was trying unsuccessfully to break away from without it hurting? Tony was bound to kick him out eventually, Bucky knew that, but instead of keeping that in mind, he kept disappearing down the rabbit hole of spending time and getting to know Tony. They were much closer now.

Bucky still wondered how Tony could put with him after Steve had left for whatever reason. He still didn’t know precisely what had gone down, but he knew the more he got to know Tony the more he realised his first assessment of the man was wrong.

Tony had let him stay in his home that he’d constructed himself, had offered Bucky kindness and hadn’t blanched at his breakdowns, instead offered him a possible way to stop having them, and continued to offer him opportunities that could help him and the worlds image of him. But he didn’t mind hearing no for an answer, either. Hell, even Tony’s friend supported him. Bucky wondered what he’d done to support that.

There were things that Tony needed to know, and Bucky was having trouble now ignoring them due to guilt. Tony seemed so easy to accept Bucky that there must’ve been things he was missing, along with the things Bucky knew he didn’t know.

It felt like Bucky was taking advantage of him, and the uncomfortable sensation that followed those thoughts kept growing.

He needed to address it soon.

Bucky just didn’t want to put it all on Tony now when he had so many things going on with his life. He’d have to let Tony go to Afghanistan, and when Steve came back from his mission, maybe they could work out their dilemma, and then Bucky could tell the truth and suffer the consequences accordingly.

Bucky would have to say goodbye to the content he’d settled into with Tony just as he’d found it. It was no less than he deserved, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings of guilt from Bucky here and there! There is a whole bucket of foreshadowing in this chapter. After their little encounter in the kitchen, Bucky is unconsciously doubting everything.
> 
> Bucky: everything is perfect.
> 
> Tony: **has to leave** 
> 
> Bucky: welp guess I die then
> 
> Yes, I love latino!Tony. It’s very cute (Bucky thinks so too). Don’t ask me how it happened because it is what it is. Embrace it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, did you wait up for me?” Tony greeted groggily, bypassing the door and heading for the kitchen. 
> 
> Bucky didn’t answer, instead asking his own question; “Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Angst, guilt and confronting ideas about war ahead guys! 
> 
> Where have I been? Ooft. Tell you after you’ve read the chapter. Unbetaed as usual, so brace yourself.

Tony had left that morning.

Bucky had waited up for him, anticipating for him to be there crisp and on time. He turned up more than hour later looking like he’d just woken up. Pepper was hot on his heels.

“Hey, did you wait up for me?” Tony greeted groggily, bypassing the door and heading for the kitchen.

Bucky didn’t answer, instead asking his own question; “Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right now?”

Tony flicked his hand dismissively. “Details.”

Bucky gave him a look like he was insane. “You have JARVIS, don’t you?” he asked sarcastically.

Pepper shared a look with him. “A question I ponder daily.”

That was really all Bucky had got out of him. There’d been a hasty goodbye and then Tony was out the door.

Bucky had stared after him, wondering what had happened. Surely it wasn’t something he’d done?

Pepper gave him a sympathetic look on the way out before going on her way as well.

Then Bucky was alone. Barring JARVIS and Tony’s crazy robots, of course.

He’d been spending the last few days with Tony, so Bucky had to stop and think about how he should spend his time now he would be gone. There were a few productive things he could think of, but the need to pound out his confused emotions won out, so he slipped into more comfortable clothes (ignoring the fact that Tony had bought them) and made his way to the gym.

After a few hours spent exerting his energy on the punching bag, and beating it to a pulp, Bucky had a shower, making the temperature almost blisteringly hot. When he stepped out, he scrubbed himself dry until his skin was pink.

However, none of these efforts made the hot and heavy rock disappear from sitting uncomfortably in his stomach.

He tried to ignore it.

By now, it was midday and Bucky had worked up an appetite.

“JARVIS?” Bucky asked hesitantly.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” JARVIS responded dutifully.

“Will you pre-heat the oven for me?”

“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS said, “Baking, are we?”

“Planning to,” Bucky answered, rifling through his clothes and pulling out sweat-pants and a t-shirt to wear. He didn’t plan to go out, and nobody was home, so what did it matter what he wore?

For the remainder of the day, Bucky spent it lazing on the couch reading with the TV for some light background noise.

Yet still, the way Tony had left bother Bucky. He wouldn’t stop thinking about it. The words of his novel weren’t registering in his head and he couldn’t focus on what was playing on the television.

The breath was catching in his throat. Bucky shut his eyes, trying to focus on getting air into his lungs.

Why couldn’t he calm down? Why did he have to be so damned?

Maybe he shouldn’t have expected to be fixed after what he’d gone through…what he’d done. He still carried every memory of every kill. He knew they’d always haunt him…so why was it just now bothering him?

Everything he’d done and it was suddenly just hitting him again. How? He used to suffocate under the heavy weight of all the memories.

“Sergeant Barnes, I know you are in distress,” JARVIS spoke up gently, and Bucky jerked, “But there is something you must see.”

With great effort, Bucky opened his eyes.

The volume of the television increased, and on it a news report was playing. As Bucky regained his senses he registered what the report was detailing.

What the hell?

 “He’s- is he?” Bucky stuttered, trying to process what he was seeing.

 “I’m unsure of Sir’s status or whereabouts, and I am not receiving a response from Lieutenant. Colonel Rhodes or any military of the like. However, from my estimation, Sir shouldn’t be in the convoy. It left before he arrived at the Air Base due to his usual tardiness.”

Bucky managed a quirk of his lips. Tony was always late – usually only fashionably. He supposed today was the exception.

Then Bucky frowned. “What sort of enemies of an arms’ dealer would drag the military into it?”

“I am unaware of such intel,” JARVIS told him drily, “If you ask me, it seems rather ludicrous. Although I might add, Tony has made enemies with questionable people.”

“Questionable as in…stupid?” Bucky clarified, raising his eyebrows.

“Who am I to judge?” JARVIS said innocently.

Bucky shook his head, amused. Christ almighty, JARVIS was passive aggressive.

Then he frowned. “Why would someone target this convoy at all?”

“Well, Sergeant, it is a war zone,” JARVIS responded.

“Yeah, but…” Bucky thought harder. “Something isn’t adding up.”

“Is it perhaps, as you would call it, a coincidence?” JARVIS asked.

“You tell me.” Bucky sighed. “Can you confirm if it is local terrorists?”

“The chances are very high, Sergeant,” JARVIS confirmed, “I will keep searching for answers.”

“They shouldn’t chance another attack, if so,” Bucky said quietly, even if he wasn’t so sure. The attack had been unpredictable, even if everyone knew Afghanistan was dangerous territory. Nobody had foreseen that, and Bucky predicted that there would be a lot of repercussions for that. Hopefully Tony could handle the chaos of it.

There was nothing quite like the hullaballoo of an army base after an attack with an influx of injured soldiers and antsy officers.

“Keep trying for Rhodes, and notify Pepper too, she ought to know,” Bucky added. Then he realised what he’d said and frowned. Since when did he give JARVIS orders?

But JARVIS didn’t call him out on it. Instead he responded with a dutiful “Yes, Sergeant.”

It was probably because Tony was gone, Bucky thought uncertainly. There was nobody else around to tell him what to do. He was, after all, a sort of butler.

Bucky just worried that there was something more to the attack on the military convoy.

-*-

Tony stepped out of the chopper, squinting his eyes against the sand flying up at him from the platform. Almost immediately, an officer, armed to the teeth, ran up to him and started dragging him across the bitumen.

Tony struggled against the man’s iron grip.

“Hey- what are you doing?” Tony protested, “Rhodes is my escort!”

“We need to get you to safety, Stark,” the officer shouted over the noise of the chopper.

Tony ripped his arm free. “What’s going on?”

“The troop escort you were supposed to take was targeted,” the officer said shortly.

Tony frowned, the news catching him by surprise. “By who?”

The officer gave him a scathing look. “Locals. Come on, we gotta go!”

Tony glanced back at the chopper, where Rhodey and the other soldiers who had accompanied him in the chopper were getting out. They were shouting at each other with an urgency that hadn’t been there moments before. Tony wondered whether they’d known about the attack.

This had been far from what he’d expected when coming to Afghanistan. What would Pepper say?

Hell, Tony knew what _Steve_ would say.

_Things don’t always go as expected, Tony. You should always be prepared for that._

At least, that’s what he would say when he hadn’t been pissed at Tony and left.

Maybe Steve would’ve been proud of him for coming here. Tony had to believe that.

“What are the casualties?” Tony asked, dreading the answer. Whatever it was, he would take responsibility for it.

The soldier gave him a quick, assessing glance. “How about I show you?”

The soldier led him to a tent, larger than the other ones, and ducked inside. Tony hesitated before entering, debating whether he wanted to see the results of the attack. He took a deep breath, then followed the soldier in.

“You’re lucky you were late for your flight, Mister Stark,” the officer commented bitterly.

Tony’s stomach clenched.

The sight he was met…

It would haunt him forever. There were average men, willing to sell their lives in service to their country laying there with limbs gone…

Tony walked forward unconsciously, staring unseeingly at the rows and rows of injured soldiers.

A quiet voice spoke up in the stuffy silence. “Tony Stark?”

Tony paused, broken out of his horrified trance. He turned to the source of the unsteady voice; a kid, propped up on one of the cots with bandages around his torso and head. His leg was missing.

Tony swallowed.

“Are you Tony Stark?” the kid repeated.

“Yeah,” Tony answered, his throat dry. He approached the cot. “That’s me.”

“Wow,” the kid breathed, “You’re actually here.”

Tony’s breath caught in his throat.

“I’m Jimmy,” the kid introduced himself, offering a shaky hand. Tony took it and shook gently.

“I can’t believe it.” Jimmy laughed breathlessly. “Nobody thought you were coming – ‘specially not after –”

The kid began to cough, and Tony rushed to grab the mug of water beside the cot and offer it to the kid.

The kid stopped coughing, ignoring the offered mug and setting his eyes on Tony, his gaze sharpening.

“You’re lucky,” the kid concluded.

Tony licked his lips, trying to ignore the stab of cold in his gut. The blame was so obvious in Jimmy’s eyes. Tony should feel indignant, but instead there was a rock sitting heavy in his stomach.

“What happened?” Tony asked, instead; He needed to be productive if he wanted to be proactive.

Jimmy rested his head back against the cot. “We were just driving,” Jimmy began, “We had the stereo on blasting AC/DC…”

For some reason, that little fact bothered Tony. They were listening to his favourite band during the attack that was targeting him…but he hadn’t been there.

“And then our driver got shot. More guys went down before we figured…we weren’t any match. So, we took shelter behind some rocks. Not much good that did against one of your missiles, Mister Stark.”

His missiles?

_My missile?_

What the hell did he mean by that?

“What are you talking about, kid?” Tony demanded. That was ludicrous – the only way it made sense if the military had targeted themselves, or maybe they’d dropped the weapon and not wanted to disturb to prevent an explosion, or they’d serviced it to the wrong ally, or, or, or---

He whirled on the officer that had brought him to the medical tent. “What the hell is he talking about?”

“Stark, calm down,” the officer began flatly.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Tony snapped, “He just said _my_ missiles. The Humvees _I_ was supposed to be in targeted by my own missiles?”

The officer addressed him with a cool gaze. “I’m well aware of how ludicrous it sounds, Stark. But my soldiers know what they saw.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed; no wonder they had sounded so bitter. Tony knew exactly what this must look like to them. Tony not arriving on time and the convoy he was supposed to be riding in blowing up? “So, what are you suggesting?” Tony asked.

“Why don’t you sit down before you hurt yourself, son?” the officer said coldly.

Tony gritted his teeth. “Don’t call me son.”

“I’ll call you what I want,” the officer retorted, “You may not have directly shot that missile off your shoulder, or even ordered the hit. But you can’t deny that you played an indirect part in this. You’re a smart guy, Tony. You create these weapons for us, and it helps us fight the bad guys.

“Theoretically, you know what war’s like. You learnt about it in your fancy school, you see it on TV. It’s common knowledge. But you rich and powerful, you don’t really know what it’s like. Not until you’ve experienced it first-hand. So, don’t waltz in here like your innocent, or you know a damn thing about what these men and women have been through. You don’t. Maybe if you shut your trap long enough you’ll learn something. ‘Cause even though you’ve grown up profiting from war, you still don’t understand a damn thing about it – even with _Captain America_ as your running lackey.”

The officer paused, glaring down at Tony. “You got anything to say about that, _son_?”

Tony’s ears were ringing.

The breath had left his body like he’d been hit by a steam roller.

Everyone’s eyes had to be on him, otherwise why else would there be a slithering, burning feeling creeping up his back?

He barely noticed the pain in his hands from clenching them so tight.

The blood in his veins was burning hot.

He wanted to grab someone and smash their head into a wall…ask them _why_? Why had this happened? What had Tony done wrong? How had he missed so many details?

How could he be so ignorant?

It wouldn’t do any good to release his fury on the officer. It wasn’t him who Tony was angry at. Tony should be grateful to him, for the wake-up call.

Alas, right now, Tony couldn’t feel anything but a smouldering fire in his lungs.

“Did you hear me Stark?” the officer snapped, “You got anything to say?”

Tony hung his head. “ _No_. I won’t let this be my legacy,” he growled.

“Speak up.”

Tony lifted his head and glared up at him. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Then he dodged around the officer and exited the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this took a turn that I didn’t prepare you for. I’m sorry this is so late but mentally I’ve been a bit all over the place and flat so you know, shit. This chapter has been in my planning for a while so yay that I’ve made it here!
> 
> I’ve just been writing randomly, mostly, with my mental ideas/rough outline as a guide, so no wonder I’m no good at this. I should aim to change that. I’m planning to get to any outline. If anyone could give me tips that would be great! ;)
> 
> And look, Jimmy from the first Iron Man movie survives! I’m pleased with that. 
> 
> There’s a line in here that asks, “how can I have been so ignorant?” and this is hint to another fic that’s been waiting around and I’ve been adding to for a while. MAYBE after this monster is done I can post it. Maybe. 
> 
> There’s also a Hamilton reference in there from “Meet me inside” ;)
> 
> This is short because of my impatience to post and my guilt of the hiatus. I’m an asshole! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions, any at all, about this fic (if there’s any confusion) ask away, because my brain is a jumpy machine.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey could only stare at Tony in bewilderment. What on earth had happened inside that medical tent? What could have possibly irked Tony so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly a filler, where I give Rhodey some well-deserved writing time. You will also be pleased to hear I have made a plan for this story *wink wonk*. It probably isn’t going to be followed very well, but it’s there for moral support.
> 
> I’ve also tried a slightly different story structure, and I think it works well. I’ll goo back and edit previous chapters too.

Touching down on base was a shit storm, and Rhodey could tell it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Tony’s presentation had been cancelled upon his arrival, and the military had given orders for Rhodey to escort him home ASAP. They were busy taking care of the injured soldiers, and they were trying to handle PR, along with upping their defences and planning a counter-strike – Rhodey could understand they didn’t have time for a cocky, young billionaire bragging about his weapons. Especially after they’d just been hit by one of them.

Maybe it would make them more careful when using them in future – they didn’t want to harm civilians by catching them in the cross-fire.

It was making Rhodey edgy, and his superior officers snapping at his heels to get Tony the hell out of there wasn’t helping.

And neither was the feral gleam in Tony’s eyes.

“Hey,” Rhodey said, catching Tony by his arm. Rhodey had spotted him ducking out of the medical tent after he’d heard what was happening upon their landing. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony answered shortly.

Rhodey wanted to pursue that, wanted to ask if Tony knew what had happened, but he could see it on his face already that he knew.

“Listen,” Rhodey began, lowering his voice, “My orders are to get you out of here. They don’t want your presentation, or you here-“

“Yeah, I picked up on that,” Tony cut in drily.

“Okay.” Rhodey nodded slowly. “So, we’ll be gone by tomorrow. Try not to interfere with anyone right now, okay?”

Rhodey could see Tony’s jaw clench, and his eyes burn feverishly and he almost took a step back. Whatever was going on through his head, Rhodey didn’t like it.

But then Tony smiled, bright and sharp. Fake.

“Sure thing, cherub,” Tony said, his voice silken sweet, “If you could escort me to my tent – the finest one here of course, since it’s no less than I desire, living off the silver spoon – and then proceed to show me how to tie my shoelaces and button my shirt, that would be fantastic.”

Rhodey scowled. “Hey – that’s not fair. I’ve been doing my best-“

“In making it obvious that everyone thinks I’m an irresponsible child?” Tony scorned.

Rhodey shook his head exasperatedly, not wanting to go down that path. Down it only lay pain and destruction.

Tony pushed Rhodey’s shoulder, not hard enough to make him stumble, but with enough force to get his point across. “Come on, Rhodes,” Tony spat, “Tell me what you think. Tell me the hard truth that _everyone’s been keeping_ from me.”

Rhodey could only stare at Tony in bewilderment. What on earth had happened inside that medical tent? What could have possibly irked Tony so much?

“Tony, I don’t want to do this,” Rhodey uttered, glancing over his shoulder uncomfortably.

“Keep treating me like a baby then,” Tony shot back, “But don’t be surprised when I make an adult decision-“

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Rhodey demanded, “I’m not the one who created this mess.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Only when the aggression faded from his features did Rhodey regret what he said.

“Hey- don’t-” Rhodey protested as Tony slunk away. He moved to chase after his friend, but another voice interrupted him.

“Rhodes! We need your input. Get over here,” his superior officer yelled.

With no choice but to comply, Rhodey gave one final glance to Tony before following orders.

-*-

Rhodey didn’t see Tony until late evening, having been occupied with task after task assigned by his superior officers, to which he couldn’t refuse. He had to accept each task with a level head and without complaint.

That kept him until they finally released him to eat and then sleep. After Rhodey had chowed his fair share in the mess hall he decided it was time to find his wayward friend.

Tony had retreated to one of the guest tents, which wasn’t the “finest” of them all, but far from it. It surprised Rhodey to seem him hunched over on the cot inside, inspecting a gun – mostly because Tony wasn’t supposed to have a gun.

“Hey,” Rhodey greeted, waiting by the entrance.

Tony looked up at him with wide eyes. “New orders?” he asked.

Rhodey frowned. “No. We’re leaving at 0500 tomorrow morning. I just wanted…” He trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

What did Rhodey want?

On a grander scheme, he was so concerned with either his job or Tony that he didn’t have time to think about himself.

“Are you okay, Tony?” Rhodey blurted out.

Tony gave him a bewildered look.

“I mean, you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, with Steve leaving, and Barnes coming in, and then this so-” he could see Tony’s face shutting down and hesitated.

It always came to this. Rhodey would try and see if Tony was alright, and ask something a little more personal than Tony liked, and he’d never get a straight response. It was an endless loop of him putting himself in a position of pain and then never healing properly from it.

“Maybe you should take it easy…” Rhodey finished, eying Tony uneasily. He doubted whatever he’d say would be listened to, but he had to try.

“Maybe I…shouldn’t,” Tony responded, a challenge in his eyes, “I think that’s just the problem – I’ve been going easy for so long. I need to get back in check.”

“Tony,” Rhodey protested.

“I’m fine, Rhodey,” Tony insisted, putting the gun aside. It was one of the earlier models.

Rhodey sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, Tony. Just don’t do anything…” he paused, thinking for the word.

Tony’s mouth quirked. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Rhodey agreed, “Don’t do anything _you_.”

Without anything more to add to that, Rhodey bid a farewell, reminding Tony to arrive on time for once. He hoped his friend would follow through.

 

 

Pepper was waiting for them as they exited the massive cargo plane. If the sight of her ginger hair wasn’t a relief, Rhodey didn’t know what was.

The ride over was uneventful, so much that he was even more concerned for Tony now.

“Mister Stark, a pleasure to see you in one shape,” Pepper greeted coolly. Only the soft smile and fond expression conveyed her relief. She was ruthless when it came to work – n doubt why Tony had kept her around for so long. That amount of time had created the soft side she had for Tony, even if she didn’t show it.

“News travels fast,” Tony responded dully.

Pepper glanced at Rhodey, as if asking “what’s going on?”. He just shrugged. He couldn’t help her out there – he had no idea what was going on inside his friend’s head.

“Call a press conference,” Tony said, out of the blue.

Rhodey frowned at Tony, perplexed. He opened his mouth to speak but Pepper beat him to it.

“Is that wise?” she questioned with a raised eye-brow.

“We’ll find out,” Tony replied with mysteriously. Without another word, he made his way over the limo waiting for him, his duffel over his shoulder, and got inside.

Rhodey sighed and followed his friend, leaving Pepper to scurry after them.

-*-

A few hours later, having arrived at the press conference and hearing what Tony had to announce to the media, and the rest of the world, did Rhodey understand why his friend had said “we’ll find out”.

Too furious for words, Rhodey met Pepper’s gaze over the heads of news reporters with a look that promised Armageddon. Her own expression betrayed her shock, telling Rhodey she had been just as unprepared for Tony’s revelation.

“ _I can’t do this anymore_ ” kept ringing in his head.  

“You mean you’re retiring?” one of the reporters asked in response to the statement.

“No, I don’t want to retire,” Tony had responded, shaking his head. “I want to do something else.”

The room was silent.

“You mean…besides weapons?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

Rhodey had looked around him, trying to meet the gaze of others to gauge if it was all a joke, if his military friends would jump out and say “surprise!” and claim it was all a practical joke.

But it didn’t appear to be panning out that way. There was only security, the news reporters and some other parties cramped into the small clearing of the building’s lobby. And they were all focused on Tony.

“What I found out over there…” Tony continued, with another shake of his head, “It opened my eyes. I thought we were doing good things here…I can’t say that anymore.”

“Pepper,” Rhodey hissed. She didn’t respond – she was transfixed to the podium.

“What do you intend to do about it, Mister Stark?” the same reporter asked. Rhodey fixed his gaze on her, mentally damning her for spurring Tony on with all those questions.

Tony hesitated, debating his answer.

Rhodey glanced back up at him hopefully, praying Tony was rethinking what he was saying. He was heading in an awful direction.

Tony met his gaze over the heads of the reporters, his eyes asking a question. Whatever was on Rhodey’s face must’ve given him the answer.

Just not the one Rhodey was hoping for.

Tony grimaced, his expression solemn. “As of this second…we’re freezing the sale of Stark weaponry world-wide.”

Rhodey’s stomach dropped.

“I…I need to revaluate some things,” Tony continued, over the chaos of the crowd beneath him. “In the following months, I’ll set a new course for Stark Industries.”

Rhodey couldn’t stand and watch anymore.

He jumped up on the podium and tugged Tony lightly away from the mic.

“Um…” Rhodey began, “Thank you for all coming today, unannounced. I think we just should understand that Tony has just been to a war zone as a civilian, and that can cause some questioning thoughts. Let’s just be glad he’s home safe. Thank you.”

Ignoring the rising questions from the reporters asking about the threat to his own position in the military, Rhodey rushed Tony off stage and back outside where Happy was waiting.

“Hogan, get us out of here,” Rhodey ordered tightly.

“Where we going?”

“Home” Rhodey answered, the same time Tony said “SI”.

Rhodey glared down at Tony. “You’ve just come back, I think you should go home and have a rest.”

“My nap time isn’t ‘till after lunch,” Tony shot back with a narrow-eyed look.

Rhodey gritted his jaw, not wanting to have this argument again right now, after what Tony had announced, and in front of the media. They already had enough feed to go off.

“Rhodey, let him go,” Pepper said. Rhodey turned to see she’d come out and squeezed through where security was keeping the media back from the limo.

“I busted my ass for him-” Rhodey began hotly.

“I know,” Pepper interrupted reasonably, “But whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it for a reason. Let him cool down.”

Rhodey glanced back at Tony who was giving him a challenging look.

“Get outta here,” Rhodey muttered a moment later, resigned.

“Thank you,” Pepper murmured gratefully as the limo disappeared from their sight.

“Yeah,” Rhodey responded, “You just better hope he’s doing it for the right reasons.”

 

 

Without anything better to do, Rhodey went to his apartment. He hadn’t been there in a while, usually instead staying with Tony at the Malibu mansion when he was on leave. The apartment felt barren when he opened the door.

There was nobody to come home to.

He could call his parents – they would want to hear from him.

But the idea of making small talk with anybody right now made him uncomfortable.

What would the military say when he went back? Would he still have a job?

What would happen in Afghanistan without the shipment of weapons anymore? Most of their supplies were Stark tech.

His superior officers wouldn’t be happy when he arrived at Bagram, he knew of that. The suddenness of the announcement had jarred everybody, especially due to how unnoticed it was. Rhodey could only imagine the reactions of the military once they heard the news.

The way Tony had done it had been shitty. Rhodey’s stomach clenched with anger just rethinking the press conference.

He should’ve never brought Tony to Afghanistan. Look where it had gotten him.

Rhodey had feared his friend wouldn’t be able to handle it – and he had been proved right.

It was difficult to remember it must’ve been Tony who was targeted, with his own weapon no less, in the hands of terrorists.

Tony had been on edge ever since Steve had left, and going to Afghanistan…had pushed him too far.

Sure, Rhodey had flirted the idea of bringing Tony over many times, but he’d never thought it’d come true. And that this would be the outcome, no less.

 _It was incredibly bad timing_ , Rhodey mused.

Or was it? Was it planned to be perfectly timed to throw Tony off and have him spiral, which could affect the sway of the war in Afghanistan?

They would have to be some highly intelligent terrorists if that was the case.

But Rhodey could never make Tony change his mind. He made the situation suit him, and that mind set never faltered.

 _It must be guilt_ , Rhodey concluded. He had seen the affect his weapon had had on the military. And he’d come out looking like a ghost.

Rhodey hadn’t wanted to talk about any of the realities of war with Tony. It just didn’t seem right saying it to someone who was just helping the military kill more people.

Hell. Tony was right – Rhodey had been keeping the hard truth bottled up. And now it was too late to let Tony down easy – he’d seen it all for himself. And it’d forced his hand.

And once again, Rhodey was left to clean up his mess.

 

 

“Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS spoke up, “You’ll be pleased to hear that Sir has touched down on US soil.”

“Tony’s here?” Bucky asked disbelievingly.

“Yes. Although I am unsure as to when he will be arriving on premises. He seems to be taking a detour from the press conference.”

“He had a press conference?” Bucky asked, his eyebrow raised. That’s was weird.

“Ah, yes,” JARVIS said, “I forgot to mention that Sir has claimed to have shut down Stark Industries weapons manufacturing sector.”

Bucky blanched. “Isn’t that…the only sector?”

“Unfortunately, so.”

“He’s shutting down SI?” Bucky demanded.

“As of now, I am unsure,” JARVIS answered.

Bucky couldn’t imagine why Tony would do that. From what Bucky could see, the company had been his entire life – his legacy. He’d been waiting to unfreeze Stark Industries since his parent’s death…

Bucky shook his head.

“He took a detour to Stark Industries headquarters first, but now he is on route,” JARVIS concluded.

“I guess I’ll uh…make him lunch?”

“I’m sure Sir will be delighted by that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky: *has done nothing since tony left*  
> Tony: *is coming home*  
> Bucky: TIME TO DO SHIT?!
> 
> mmm what is Tony doing? What is Tony planning? Wait and seeeeeeee


	9. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t speak for others, and he couldn’t control them either, but he could do that for himself. And he and his company had a lot of influence over the world. So maybe he could spread his message.  
> Creating weapons and selling them didn’t solve anything. It only caused more harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise? This is the end of Entitled? 
> 
> ALAS it is not the end of the Entitled SERIES *nervous laughter*
> 
> Ok, so I was thinking…this is really long. And I can’t fill the gaps anymore. Because even if I’m a massive bull shitter, I can’t write long fics. I have the attention span of a puppy. Novels are hard to write alright - if they weren’t everybody would be doing it.
> 
> SO, I’m doing what I do best. Making it short and sweet.   
> Don’t get me wrong though, this chapter is longish. I’m proud of it.
> 
> Once more unbetaed.

Bucky had become indifferent to watching the daily news on television.

It was inevitable – he been watching the news every morning and night, wanting to know what was going on around the world (or more specifically, what the media was broadcasting around the world). JARVIS had also told him, because of what had been happening with Tony.

9/11 had fuelled Americans into finding their new enemy. Terrorists. The middle-east.

Where Tony was. With the army who he’d been supplying weapons to deal with them.

But apparently, according to the news report detailing the press conference Tony had had a few hours earlier before he’d gone to Stark Industries main office, weapons manufacturing had stopped.

Bucky watched the television impassively. (There was a television in the kitchen, of course).

Yes. Watching the news was a dull knife now.

Perhaps he’d always been indifferent.

Being conscripted to serve his country in the Second World War may have done that for him.

Now, he had knowledge to describe the aftermath of what he’d endured. Trauma. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. ‘Cause shell shock was no longer a socially acceptable way of categorising what many soldiers felt, apparently.

He’d know many people who’d served in the Great War. He’d watched their blank faces addressing questions from people who just didn’t know any better wondering what drove them to serve the country. (Of course, there was only one right answer.)

There was no light in those ex-soldiers’ eyes. Only knowledge of the dead.

Bucky had found that out the hard way.

His first mission had been a shock, but it had been non-stop until Azzano, where they’d strapped him to a table and poked and prodded him until the only thing he could do to survive was descend into his own mind.

And with nothing to distract him but more pain, his mind went over, and over, and over what he’d seen. Non-stop. As if he needed to see what he’d already witnessed again.

It hadn’t sunk in until he’d been strapped to a table and left to suffer with his own demons, and poisonous power filtering through his system.

And then he’d been freed by Steve, then pushed into another team of men of his own talent who knew the deal of the world and accepted reality for it was. Like him, they’d suffered as prisoners and they’d seen death with their own eyes. Caused it with their own hands.

They…were killers.

And they only got to explore their skills as the war raged on.

Sure, they were killing Hydra, evil men who wanted to do the same thing and worse to them.

But it was still killing. Men were still dying under their influence.

Under normal circumstances, killing one man would make them serve years in prison justifiably.

Bucky slaughtered _countless_ men – and perhaps women and children too – before he’d even been transformed into the Winter Soldier (he’d killed more people on behalf of the army than on behalf of Hydra – a thought that haunted him most nights. Who was the true big bad? He’d never know).

Azzano must have been the world’s way of playing a joke on Bucky, because when he came out he was a POW, a survivor. A _hero_.

He didn’t receive _proper_ punishment.

No, his punishment was to be turned into something worse. Something darker, more sinister, more…indifferent. By then he’d become adjusted to death. He’d witnessed it enough times by then, most of it at his own hands.

Before he’d been wiped, at least he’d _known_ he should’ve felt remorseful, should’ve been more merciful instead of feeling so numb.

But as the Winter Soldier, he hadn’t known any of that. He’d been driven before, but without his memories, and with harsher oversight, there was only the mission. He’d see it through or he’d suffer. He was a loyal, ruthless machine. He had no personality.

He had been a terrifyingly talented child, before the stages of personality development. He had no identity because they’d taken it away from him. No identity meant no choice (or so he told himself).

Watching what was playing on the television, Bucky didn’t think much had changed.

Nothing seemed real anymore.

Everything had a distant, far away feel to it like he was having a constant out of body experience. He felt blank and empty. And the memories…every single death he caused. He remembered them. And they would play on repeat. Constantly.

He couldn’t redeem himself.

Yet, he went unpunished.

He’d done unimaginable things that even his own mind couldn’t comprehend. The memories overwhelmed him and made his head heart like he was being wiped all over again.

Some days he wished for the nothingness of the Winter Soldier, and he’d hate himself even more.

So, what Tony had done; stopped his company from producing weapons?

He’d held Tony on a pedestal before, but thinking back on all James had done, how someone had taken his misguided ability to kill into their own hands, James found himself thinking that Steve couldn’t have been more of a fool.

Because Tony was in the same boat, and he could do something about it. He could redeem himself. He was all James envisioned to be.

Steve didn’t know how valuable Tony really was.

 

 

The ride back home passed quickly – Tony assumed it was because he’d had a lot on his mind.

Such as the press conference, Rhodey being mad at him for it, seeing James, and then what he was going to do next…all overwhelming his mind.

He’d thought he’d handled the public outing well, considering his mind felt like a bag of cats – and he hadn’t even had anything to drink. He’d thought for sure Pepper would be snapping at his heels for what he’d done, but she’d been more concerned with Rhodey.

One less problem to deal with right now, Tony amended to himself. She’d stopped Rhodey from dragging Tony back out of the car to explain himself. Tony couldn’t even if he tried – where would he start?

“I suspect my entire life has been a lie all because of terrorists attacked the military with weapons I created”?

Didn’t really seem like he’d gain much understanding from his friend with that. Telling him he’d halted Stark Industries weapon manufacturing world-wide on a whim? Even when it wasn’t a whim to Tony – he could put two and two together, he was a genius – it would be to Rhodey.

No, he couldn’t do that to his friend. Or to himself. After all this…whatever it was…was over, Tony would see if Rhodey still…

Huh.

Tony had a lot of arranging to do. SI would be a mess for a long time, but he could re-focus on electronics and robotics for a while – which meant more designing. He had to put his projects to the board, which was always a pain in the ass. They would be more difficult than ever and make the entire process more hellish right now because they’d always hated Tony and how he’d pushed the company to new heights at is tender age, practically alone.

So, there was that. He’d have to request Pepper’s help, even if doing so wasn’t his forte (she was always more business acclaimed than he was).

Stocks would plummet, so they had to account for that – though Tony had people for that. Even if that did happen, he didn’t want to give anyone a leaving package. He wasn’t going to drag anyone else down with him if he could help it. He’d put more of his own money into the company.

And that wasn’t even what was really bothering Tony.

Afghanistan was.

Since 2001, terrorism had become America’s new common enemy, and Tony had been providing the military for that front, and since he’d stopped, he may as well be an enemy of the country himself. He’d even go as far to say people would brandish him as bad as a terrorist.

It didn’t matter. What he had been doing before didn’t make him a hero. What Steve did made you a hero – not giving some a bigger stick to beat the enemy with.

 _War never ends, humans only get better at it_ , Tony thought bitterly.

But Tony had grown up surrounded by war, or rather stories of it. His father, Steve, Peggy, the company, Rhodey…James.

He was just doing what he thought was best to make peace with what he’d done, even if it didn’t solve the humankind issue.

He couldn’t speak for others, and he couldn’t control them either, but he could do that for himself. And he and his company had a lot of influence over the world. So maybe he could spread his message.

Creating weapons and selling them didn’t solve anything. It caused more harm.

 _War profiteer_. He and his father had been called that a lot, but never had Tony let it get to him.

Now, though…

He should’ve gone to Afghanistan a long time ago.

Now he needed to find out how the hell his weapons had fallen in the hands of America’s enemy.

 _Easier said than done_ , Tony thought with a sigh.

They’d almost arrived at the Malibu mansion – the familiar winding road and the view passed by and Tony stared out the window unseeingly.

Unwillingly, James flitted into his mind again. What of him?

 _Jesus_ , Tony thought, _I haven’t even thought about what he’ll will think!_

Hopefully, James wouldn’t be there, so Tony didn’t have to answer to him. He didn’t want another Steve all over again. If he was already gone Tony wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of another person leaving him all over again.

Abandonment was a common theme of Tony’s life, right underneath war.

And the idea of dealing with what was coming…Tony had never felt lonelier. Steve was gone, Rhodey too, and Tony didn’t think James would appreciate being dragged into the fiasco even if he was still hanging around and hadn’t shunned Tony to the devil. God knows he should be sick of fighting.

“Home sweet home, boss,” Happy said dutifully from the driver’s seat. Tony blinked and finally realised what he was looking at – the smooth lines of his mansion.

“Thanks, Hap,” Tony said, opening the door.

“Need me to come in?” Happy asked, and Tony realised he was concerned.

Made sense, he supposed.

“I’ll be fine, Hogan,” Tony told him, with a quirk of his lips, “You just stay out of the cross-fire, alright?”

“Sure, boss,” Happy said, as if he’d said it for the sole purpose of humouring Tony. He was paid to do so, Tony supposed. “Call me if you need me.”

“I’ve got JARVIS for that,” Tony responded, shutting the door and lifting his hand to the retreating car.

At least Happy didn’t seem to hate him.

Tony couldn’t say for sure if James would be in the same boat.

“JARVIS,” Tony greeted, “Daddy’s home.”

“So it were, Sir,” JARVIS responded, “It is good to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” Tony quipped. “Is the, uh, resident cyborg home?”

“He is in the kitchen with a welcoming sandwich, Sir.”

“’That so?” Tony raised his eyebrows. So, James probably didn’t hate him if he was still here, and making him food, apparently.

“He is requests your presence,” JARVIS told him, “On specific instructions ‘only if you don’t mind’.”

Tony almost laughed at JARVIS’ quoting. He had yet to learn about human insecurities, and it was amusing hearing him _not_ comprehend it.

“I’m on my way,” Tony obliged.

But on the way to the kitchen, his stomach kept flipping as he kept overthinking.

Maybe it was a “welcome home, I’m leaving” sandwich, or a “eat this because you won’t have anything like this ever again” sandwich or…

Jesus, Tony was such a child.

He paused just outside the kitchen, straightening his attire – a rumpled grey on white suit, without a tie, with the top few buttons of his shirt undone – before deciding that was useless, and slipped the suit coat off and hanging it over his arm.

Then he stepped out from behind the wall and into the kitchen space.

Seeing James was like a punch to the gut.

The feeling, unlike any he’d had before, he could barely conceal.

It was like he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed him until seeing him again.

He wasn’t even looking Tony’s way – with his back facing Tony, he stood over the counter preparing sandwiches in jeans and a grey sweater rolled up to his elbows. Even bare footed he was almost a head taller than Tony.

He looked sombre and…grey like he normally did, and with his head low he seemed particularly upset.

Christ.

Tony coughed to get James attention, and he held his breath as the man looked his way, hoping he wasn’t about to get lectured or snapped at.

“Tony,” James greeted warmly, his eyes lighting up as they settled on his face. He sounded almost…breathless.

Not a lecture then.

Tony stared up at James face as the man looked over him, as if checking to see if he was alright. That alone made emotions well up inside him.

“James,” Tony greeted, hovering just past the kitchen entrance, not knowing what to do with himself.

A handshake didn’t feel like an appropriate course of action, and neither did having no contact at all, but Tony wasn’t sure whether a hug would be appropriate.

He’d been bracing for something that hadn’t come, and now he didn’t know what to do with himself.

James inched forward, straightening off the kitchen counter. His eyes lay heavy on Tony, unsure.

 

Maybe it was the relief of finally being home, and not being snubbed by the person he’d thought might’ve left, but in the next moment, Tony found his way into James’ arms.

They’d both moved to meet each other in the middle, it seemed.

Comforting arms came up to wrap around Tony’s shoulders whilst he clung to James, face pressed into his shoulder. He was finding it difficult to breathe.

He hadn’t been hugged like this in a long time. He hadn’t realised he _needed_ to be until right then, and now he never wanted to leave James’ arms.

It wasn’t just James he was being hugged by – it was the clothes he was wearing. The softness of his sweater passed on its comfort through to Tony like he was a baby being wrapped in a blanket.

Sure, a few weeks back, James had pulled Tony into his arms, but it hadn’t felt like this.

He usually hadn’t had anything to convince him that returning home was better than anything he’d go away for. It was usually just _flat_ and _go back to work_ , (and procrastinating such work to make Pepper stick around longer to tell him to finish it).

Now, especially after what had happened in Afghanistan, the press conference and Rhodey being mad at him, being home was better than ever, especially because James was still there to greet him like this.

“I saw what happened,” James murmured softly.

Tony’s hands just clung to him tighter.

Sure, he’d been anticipating James leaving, and for them to never speak on positive terms ever again – hell, Tony had been hoping for it, in a cowardly sense – but now he would never admit that.

He would fight for James to stay if it coming home to this.

James sighed, and Tony felt the breath leaving his lungs.

That was probably when he should’ve let it go. Fortunately, James did it for him, releasing Tony gently from the embrace.

“That bad?” James asked with a grimace.

“Uh…well I mean…” Tony trailed off.

It had been beyond bad.

That feeling…when that officer had given Tony a piece of his mind, the wakeup call that had come with that…that had been the worst thing he’d gone through. Right up there with his parents’ death, Steve leaving and Peggy being in intensive care.

But he couldn’t come to regret it.

Sure, he was still working through it – he’d barely started, even – and the emotional trauma that came with it wasn’t optimal.

He knew there might not be any coming back from this. His life would be changed forever, for better or worse, he had no idea.

But Tony felt like he was finally finding his feet – it didn’t matter that everything was going to shit. Fixing the problems passed on through his legacy? _That_ he could do. It felt right.

And he knew it wouldn’t just stop there.

Yes, he’d been the one to continue weapons manufacturing, as a war profiteer, and people had got hurt because of it, but he knew that now.

Somehow his weapons had fallen into the hands of terrorists. Sure, he shouldn’t have been selling them in the first place – that was inexcusable. But even if he hadn’t stopped, they should have never have found their way into enemy hands in the first place. It shouldn’t have taken him _that_ for him to stop and realise what he was doing was wrong.

No wonder Steve had left. He would probably never forgive Tony.

Tony had just wanted to make him proud.

He’d been such good friends with Tony’s father, and Steve had talked about him so fondly, that he Tony thought he could do the same.

But he never could measure up, apparently.

There were severe contrasts in the reason they’d done what they had, Tony supposed.

His father had been in World War Two, right next to Steve, James and Peggy, and he’d provided weapons when it was most appropriate. He was a genius, sure, but Hydra had the bigger stick then.

Now Tony, for his own greedy purposes, was using his extensive knowledge, not for good, but to try and impress someone who’d been…who’d been his idol.

At least now Tony knew, no matter what he did, there was no making Steve proud.

Tony just wasn’t the sort of person to fit into his life – not anymore. He wondered what had gone wrong growing up.

Probably his parents’ death.

 _Probably_.

“It was fantastic,” Tony responded nervously, “Gotta love me some middle-eastern dirt.”

James just stared at him.

“Although, I may have screwed up. Royally. More than I usually do.”

He really wasn’t making it any better.

Tony shifted uncomfortably under James heavy gaze. It was like the man was gazing past all his barriers, where Tony never wanted anyone to look. It felt invasive.

“I don’t know why you did what you did,” James began, in a low tone – secretive, and oh boy, there was the lecture Tony had been dreading- “But whatever the reason, it ain’t bad. Beats solving all of our problems with explosives.”

Tony startled himself with a laugh. Clearly, Tony couldn’t read people well. Hell, he should’ve known that already. Especially with James. Duh – he’d come back from being a ghost.

“Yeah, clearly, we haven’t learnt all that much from your time,” Tony said, and what a relief it was to admit it.

_War never ends, humans only get better at it._

James gave a dry chuckle. He was still holding Tony close – his hands had slid down to loop around Tony’s waist so he had nowhere to go in a firm but comforting hold.

“If we’ve learned anything at all, it’s that the things we’re good at only develop,” James said, like he’d read Tony’s mind.

“That doesn’t necessarily make it a bad thing, though,” Tony protested, thinking about technology.

“I dunno,” James drawled, “I wouldn’t mind going back in time to the dark ages. All these bright screens are hurting my eyes…m’not dexterous enough to handle it…”

Tony scoffed, pushing James arms away from him. He doubted that he could if the man really didn’t want him out of his reach – nothing beat the super soldier strength that came hand in hand with determination.  “You and Steve both pretend you’re subpar at handling technology. I know your rate of learning has increased, okay? Stop messing with me.”

“It’s just too fun to fool around with a genius,” James teased, grinning brightly.

Tony paused and raised his eyebrow at that. “’Fool around’, huh?” he said, pursing his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“What?” James asked, with a frown, “You think I can’t play fool with you?”

“Well, no, I think you do it rather well…but…” Tony paused to rake his gaze over James suggestively, and leaned closer, “’Fool around’ has a certain different meaning nowadays…”

James stared at him some more.

Then he leaned closer as well, resting his elbow against the kitchen counter. “’Fool around’ has always meant ‘fool around’,” James muttered, straight-faced, “It just depends on how you take it.”

“I’m taking it out of context, does that count?” Tony asked jokingly.

“Stop bein’ a flirt and eat your sandwich,” James grunted, shoving the plate between them.

Tony just laughed joyously. Things felt like they were back to normal, even if they really weren’t.

_Home at last._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things were depressing at first, because I was venting (I watched American Sniper at school, and then kept looking into depressing war stories because thats our English topic right now) and needed to do it, so you know, some Bucky character study. But I’ve had a great weekend, so I ended it by writing the fluffy ending. 
> 
> I thought it tied off “Entitled” well. Tony’s legacy caught up to him, but he doesn’t really understand that yet. Bucky is there for him. Really this fic works into the opposite of how he feels. dramatic irony. Of course, there will be a sequel, where we will get more ACTION and DRAMA in finding out what happened to Steve (there was a whole bucket load of foreshadowing in this chapter btw), but first I think I’ll delve into some smol! Tony with Peggy and Steve one-shot, you know, to create some angst for the sequel. 
> 
> This has been character and theme study with in an alternate universe, and I want to go from this work's theme of war and inner-conflict, to a redemption arc.
> 
> My brain is a bag of cats (as Bruce Banner once said of Loki). 
> 
> Stick with me ;) theres more to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think <3


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